Methods of Research
by Bethofbells
Summary: College AU. Mindy and Danny meet at a frat party and consider the merits of book learning versus real world application. (Also, maybe, ok definitely, there's smut)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So, it started off as a kink meme prompt, then it became decidedly not a kink, but rather my first attempt at an AU of any kind. Anywho, here's a college AU one shot. Comments and reviews are appreciated.**

The bass thumped in her ears, the reverberations chasing through her body as she followed close behind Maggie. She yelled over the music. "Who invited us anyway? Are we going to get thrown out?"

Maggie shook her head. "Mindy, stop. No one cares. This is a red solo cup party."

"What?"

Maggie nodded toward a group of bros gathered beside a keg, red solo cups in hand. "This isn't a housewarming party in Concord. There were no invites. No one gives a rat's ass who is here, as long as the music and moderately priced beer is flowing into cheap plastic cups." Leaning in close, she yelled into Mindy's ear. "Which is why we pre-gamed at the dorm. Smart girls do NOT partake in anything _anyone _hands them in a red solo cup."

Mindy's reply was cut short when Anders, an overly enthusiastic friend of Maggie's, cut in between them. The extraordinarily tall nordic god threw his arms around her friend, lifting her up in the air. "Mags!"

Mindy pretended to be interested as Maggie introduced her to her friend, some guy she played intramural co-ed rugby with. Mindy wasn't interested in him, and clearly he wasn't interested in her, his eyes traveling to the deep vee of Maggie's blouse. Mindy excused herself, barely eliciting a glance from Maggie.

Her first attempt at being a social butterfly was coming along pathetically. This party was loud and hot, and she could already feel the thin material of her silk top sticking to her skin. Nope, this was not pleasant.

She picked her way through the overly crowded living room, guys in Ed Hardy regalia bumping into her without apology as they bobbed up and down to the club-like beat. Fanning herself, she made her way into the kitchen, hoping to find a back door to escape the pressing heat.

The pregame shots Maggie had made her take were starting to kick in, a tingling sensation in her lips sending her finger unconsciously to trace them. Surprisingly, the kitchen was empty, save one strange party-goer's well formed ass sticking out of the fridge. Who came to a party to rifle through the host's fridge? It sounded like something she would do, so she approached said ass's owner.

"Hey." The greeting came out at a louder volume than she'd intended, the alcohol beginning to course through her veins dampening her verbal controls.

He spun around, surprised, a jar of mayo in one hand, pickles in the other, a bag of deli meat dangling between his teeth. She smiled, an involuntary little laugh bursting out before she could cover her mouth. He was attractive, the dark waves on his head parted in a decidedly old fashioned style. A little short, but Mindy didn't really care, her 5'1" frame not presenting much of an issue. She liked the surprised look on his face, deep brown eyes wide, eyebrows arched up. God, what man had eyelashes that long? She reached forward to take the lunchmeat, hoping to free him for conversation. "Making a sandwich?"

He didn't oblige her, merely nodding as he moved toward the counter, setting down the various jars in his hands before reaching for the loaf of bread. Strong silent type, check. She took his closed mouth response as an invitation to talk more. "Isn't hiding in the kitchen and making sandwiches at a rave kind of anti-social?"

He paused, the knife spreading mayo across one of the slices of bread rose as he used it to point at her. "One: you're also in the kitchen, and two: this is _not_ a rave. Have you ever been to a rave?" He snatched the lunchmeat from her hands.

Affronted, she raised both of her hands in protest, a look of outrage spreading across her face. "How dare you question my various college experiences? I have been to well over a dozen raves, and this has some definite rave-like qualities." The lies slipped easily off her tongue.

He turned his attention back to the culinary task at hand, ignoring the indignant expression on her face. "Well, in all your _vast _experience, I'm sure you've encountered a lame frat house kegger before, and even maybe a designated driver or two that had nothing better to do than make sub par sandwiches while waiting for his idiot friends."

He looked at her inquiringly, one eyebrow raised as he gave her a once over. "Are you even old enough to be drinking?" A hint of humor infused his question, his eyes darting up and down her body as if to gauge her approximate age.

She sputtered, her mouth bobbing open and shut, whatever lying ability she'd had before disappearing. "I mean.. in Canada, and like, other European, and therefore more forward thinking countries, yes, totally legal."

"So, no."

"No."

He smiled, satisfied with his assumption. Taking a large bite out of his newly made sandwich, he pinned her with his gaze and said. "Then I'm right." He spoke with his mouth full. It should have been disgusting, but Mindy couldn't take her eyes off of him, the little fleck of mayo on his bottom lip. She traced her own with her tongue while she stared at him.

"You're probably some high school chick crashing, what are you sixteen?" His words dripped with condescension as one of his well manicured thumbs darted up to wipe away the errant condiment. She nearly whimpered when he popped the digit into his mouth.

Mentally chiding herself, she shook her head, eyes brightening a bit. Stepping forward to rest a hand on his arm, she squeezed slightly at the more than firm bicep underneath the soft cotton. "Thank you."

He stared at her in confusion. "It wasn't a compliment."

He removed her hand from his arm, but she turned her palm toward his and squeezed his fingers before he had a chance to release it. "Sure it wasn't a compliment _now_, but I'm looking at the long game." She smiled, taking another step toward him. "I'm Mindy."

Surprised by her touch, the hand holding his hastily made sandwich returned the food to its plate before turning his whole body toward her. "What are you doing?"

"The proper response to a hot girl introducing herself is to politely introduce yourself right back."

"Stop playing around. Are you a student here?" His voice was husky, and the sudden shift in tone threw Mindy off balance, her mouth snapping shut as the man's long graceful fingers encircled her wrist possessively, dragging her into his body.

Feeling a little bit of fire flame in her belly once again, she looked at him devilishly. "Are _you_?"

"What?"

"For all I know you could be someone's creepy dad."

"What! I'm 23!"

She giggled, the outraged expression on his face almost comical, his mouth half open in anger, the confused expression in his eyes only tipping her past the point of no return. She began laughing in earnest, gasping even. The small amount of alcohol she'd had released her from her normal inhibitions just enough to really let go. "Still kind of old, to be a student anyway."

He would have released her immediately, stormed out of the tiny kitchen in search of his sane friends, but there was something about the absolute glee in her voice as tears of mirth streamed down her face that tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I had to take some time off. Family stuff." His answer spilled out quickly, and surprised him. Why the hell was he sharing this with her? It was none of her business.

The mirth instantly wiped from her face, her eyes growing big, some misplaced awe in her depths. Her hand crept up, resting gently in his face. "You noble creature."

He pulled back slightly, a full blown smile making itself known as he snorted out laughter. "Alright, alright, seriously though. How old are you? I'm not throwing away a promising career as a doctor for a bad decision at a crappy frat party."

Her mouth dropped open once again, reminding him of a gasping goldfish, the shock on her face more amusing even than the laughter earlier. "Exsqueeeeeeze me! You're pretty damn sure of yourself, Mr… Whatever your name is."

"Danny."

"Mr. Danny thinks he's gonna be a doctor and get laid tonight…" She snapped her mouth shut, feeling like a moron.

He leered at her. The smile on his face sent a shiver down her spine, something magnified by the feel of his hands as he slid his arms behind her, drawing her up close. She felt the tips of his fingers brush along the seam of her jean skirt, slipping effortlessly into the back pockets to cup her ass.

He squeezed firmly, drawing her hips in close to his as he dipped down close to her face. Her breath caught as she anticipated the feel of his lips on hers, but he drew back unexpectedly, the warmth of his hands leaving her body as he waved her I.D. triumphantly in front of her face.

He squinted slightly, trying to make out the birthday. "Well, Ms. Lahiri, looks like everything checks out." He continued to look at her smugly. "I hear there are rooms upstairs for this kind of thing."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Smug bastard. If you didn't have a dancer's body and an ass that won't quit, I would smack the hell out of you." She hooked her fingers into his belt loops, pulling him close, notching herself between his legs. "It's probably a good idea for me to lose my frat-party-virginity to some jerk I'll never see again."

Before he had the chance to respond, Mindy lunged forward, wrapping her arms around Danny's neck and pulling his face to hers, kissing him. He didn't immediately respond, breathing in the scent of her floral perfume and some other faintly sweet aroma (baked goods?). She attacked his mouth, drawing his bottom lip in hungrily while her hands clutched at him.

She tasted like cinnamon, the flavor lingering on his tongue as she withdrew, her eyes glowing with satisfaction. "Upstairs?" Her voice was raspy and deep, contrasting greatly with the high pitched indignation from before. It sent a tendril of desire coiling in the pit of his stomach.

He nodded, and without a word dragged her out of the kitchen, food lying long forgotten on the messy counter.

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He had to thank Andrew for dragging him here, for ignoring his grouchy protests. Before he'd heard the high pitched voice behind him, he'd been compiling a list of reasons to leave, ready to drag his wasted roommate back home and crawl under his down comforter.

But now he had this little dynamo climbing all over him, tugging at the buttons of his shirt as her pastry flavored mouth left hot kisses along his jaw. Leaving was the last thing on his mind.

His hands were everywhere, unable to decide on any one part of her anatomy to explore as he dragged her up the narrow stairway, coming back to her ass again and again. They finally reached the top and she clumsily pushed him back against the nearest doorway, squeaking as the thing flew open, spilling them both on the floor.

He laughed, trying to regain the breath she'd knocked out of him, his chest rumbling beneath her as she tried to wriggle off him. His belt buckle pressed into her stomach as he bracketed her waist with his hands and held her in place, taking a minute to breathe in the scent of her hair as it brushed across his face. The room was blanketed in darkness, the faint glow from the hallway the only hint of light to illuminate their surroundings. The desire coiling in him began to thrum in its urgency, and the laughter died away.

"Stay." It was a low command issued through clenched teeth, his fingers squeezing slightly to punctuate it.

"But the bed?"

"It's a twin bed in the upstairs bedroom of a frat house, unless you want an antibiotic resistant strain of chlamydia, you'll stay away from any and all beds like that." He smirked. "For future reference anyway."

Nodding, she sat up, the hem of her skirt riding even further up her thighs as she straddled him. His fingertips brushed the newly exposed skin. "I've always wanted to be on top. Smiling down at him, a happy thought entered her head. "It's statistically the best position for female orgasm. Or.. that's what the books say."

Danny was grateful for the dark. Her unbridled enthusiasm and lack of a verbal filter were making him blush. A reaction that would have totally undermined the cavalier manner he'd adopted. Still, he couldn't keep the genuine interest out of his voice. "You've read books about it?"

She nodded again. The motion traveling down her body resulted in a more than pleasant sensation on his lap. His fingers slipped under the edge of her skirt and he felt goosebumps temporarily chase along her skin. "What can I say. I'm well read. Have you?"

He slowly shook his head in denial as his fingers traveled between the vee of her thighs. "No… no… my knowledge of the female orgasm is based entirely in the realm of physical experience and patient observation." Cockiness crept back into his voice. "Although I could probably _write_ a book at this point."

"Prove it." There it was again, that low primal sound issuing from her vocal chords that sent the blood rushing in his ears.

He brushed his knuckles against the silk of her panties, the light friction against the damp material making her arch involuntarily toward him, her lips descending on his hungrily. She rolled her hips, seeking out his touch, grinding down on him eagerly. He took it as an invitation to proceed and tugged the offending barrier aside.

She gasped against his lips as he slipped the pads of his fingers determinedly against the apex of pleasure, massaging the sensitive bundle of nerves expertly before slipping inside. She released his lips with an audible smack, a gasp turning into an all out moan before it morphed into a question. "Mmmmmy god, what are you doing?"

His motions stilled, the faint tremors of her pleasure still pulsing softly against his fingers. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She was young, for sure, but her brash pursuit had lead him to believe she was at least experienced. Now he questioned that. "Have you never…?"

"What? Of course!" She closed her eyes and leaned back. "So help me, if you stop now, I'll write the most scathing review of your upcoming book." Her indignation was undermined by an obvious shortness of breath.

Smiling, he reached forward with his free hand, tugging her down to him once again. He wished there was more light. He wanted to see her face as she completely lost control, a half formed thought in the back of his mind that it could possibly be the first time for her. He settled for kissing her again, tracing the shape of her mouth with the tip of his tongue as his other hand began to work.

She clutched at his shirt, suddenly hating the barrier between them, aching to feel his skin flush against hers as she began to fly apart. The first wave hit her like a Mack truck, bowling her over unexpectedly. Her mouth opened against his, forgetting all attempts at kissing as the muscles in her abdomen clenched. She bit down on her bottom lip as he eked a low moan out of her.

Danny continued, recognizing her reaction as the beginning of something larger. This time he curled his fingers in a much practiced move, pressing firmly against her g-spot. "What is..? Oh." She hummed involuntarily, words escaping her. Her hips rolled against him, encouraging his exploration as a second wave crashed into her, searching desperately for some kind of anchor. She found his hand on her breast, squeezing gently as she rocked into him. She grasped at it, holding it tight to her body as she peaked for the last time. "I think... I think-" She gasped an inelegant curse against his lips. "Oh, fuck!"

He laughed, pleased with himself beyond belief at the feel of her collapsing against him, the inescapable contractions continuing to flutter against his fingers. "Nah… we haven't done that yet." He withdrew, relishing the feel of her full weight relaxed atop him, her face nestled in the hollow of his neck.

His hands traveled absentmindedly across her back, slipping unobtrusively underneath her blouse in search of smooth skin. He didn't know if she'd be up for anything more even if he was painfully aroused.

His unspoken question was answered almost immediately as he felt her wiggling again, sitting up and tugging at his belt. She cursed softly as she struggled with the prongs. "We need to fix that. Right now."

He was ready, of course. He'd been in a state since he'd slid his hands around the globe of her ass, since he'd tasted the cinnamon on her tongue. Sighing, he regretfully pushed her hands away. He'd known all along how tonight would end. "I don't have a condom, Lahiri." He ached as she pulled away in disappointment. "And I'm guessing from the look on your face, you don't have one either."

"No." She rolled off of him, sighing hugely as she settled on the floor. "I mean, I suppose I could…" She made an awkward clicking noise with her tongue. "You know. Return the favor. If you want."

Before he could answer there was a racket in the hall, a herd of elephants ascending the stairway. "Danny, yo, Danny! Where the hell are yoooooouuuu?" The door was only slightly ajar, but the drunken enthusiasm of Danny's search party had it banging against the wall in a matter of seconds. "Little D!"

Danny grabbed the nearest object, hurling it at his friend. "Get out of here man. I'll be down in a second."

Andrew's eyes darted from Danny to Mindy half a dozen times, his alcohol fogged brain taking longer than usual to connect the dots. "Oh, yeah, sure…. don't be too long. We have to get back, you have that thing… I have that other thing… things..." He stumbled away, mumbling to himself.

Danny was on his feet almost immediately, reaching down to pull Mindy up. He overestimated the strength required to get her off the floor, and ended up pulling her roughly against his chest. He held her there only for a second before releasing her. "Sorry."

She stared at him, her eyes still shiny from her recent release. "Don't be. _Little _D." She smirked at the nickname. "I guess I'll never know where _that _came from, eh?"

This time there was no darkness to hide his blush, and he could only stare at her as the blood rushed to his ears. "No, no, no. That's not.."

"Relax." She leaned forward to lay an affection peck on his cheek. "I was close enough to know, that particular D is not so little."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mindy walked on clouds all the way home, ignoring Maggie drunkenly catcalling light posts as they walked back to their dorm. She was inordinately proud of herself, the smile on her face making her cheeks sore. Her first attempt at a casual liaison had been a screaming success. She'd had probably the most mind-blowing orgasm of her life… ok, so maybe the first orgasm of her life. She had thought she'd reached that climactic peak before, during the pathetically few sessions she'd had with her high school boyfriend, and sure she'd felt little waves of pleasure, but tonight with Danny had been different. She couldn't describe the inarticulate sounds that had involuntarily leapt from her mouth, or the full body muscle spasms that had swept over her. So yeah, most definitely the first.

_And_ she could now add 'hooking up' to the list of collegiate things she'd done since the first week of the fall semester had started. So far it was a short list, but she had plans. Grand plans that would probably have been accomplished much sooner if she didn't have a damn Saturday morning class. Who the fuck did that? Oh, right, overachieving pre-med students, that's who.

Still, even the impending misery of waking up in three hours to go to class couldn't bring her down. She felt like she might fly on this particular high for days.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She sashayed into the classroom with almost a full minute to spare, a steaming coffee clutched in one hand. So, she hadn't had time to wipe the smudged party mascara away from her eyes, or run a comb through her hair (but it looked strategically tousled, so she let that one go).

She wasn't all that self conscious about the baggy sweats tucked into her uggs either. This was an eight a.m. Saturday class. It was probably stuffed to the gills with nerds intent on tucking away little tidbits of organic chemistry. A bunch of upper level classman who wouldn't spare her a glance. She was confident.

She settled into a seat at the bottom of the pit as usual, not one to shy away from professor's questions. She even had time to open her notebook to a fresh page, and line up her various pens before the professor shuffled in.

He was a rather gaunt man, his glasses sliding down the tip of his nose as he ran a hand through a mass of wiry gray hair. He looked a bit scattered as he shuffled through his papers, glancing at his watch. Surveying the students before him, he pasted on a halfhearted smile. "Welcome to Organic Chemistry. I'm Professor Garibaldi. God knows why you signed up for a Saturday morning class, but misery loves company, so I'm glad you're here."

He tapped his pen on the lector in front of him, glancing at his watch again. "At this point I would normally have my TA hand out the syllabi, but he seems to be running late, which isn't like him at all." There was a note of worry in Garibaldi's voice as he glanced toward the door.

Mindy heard shuffling, and the slamming of a heavy door behind her and didn't bother to look up. She began to title her notes.

"Ah. Mr. Castellano, I'm so glad you've decided to join us."

"I'm so sorry. Won't happen again."

Mindy's head snapped up, the familiarly accented voice drawing her undivided attention. He had his back to her, but there was no mistaking the ass before her. It was certainly the same one she'd seen peeking out of the fridge the night before. Shit.

He reached down into his messenger bag and drew out a file folder, handing it over to the professor, who nodded gratefully. "Of course, Danny. I'm sure you have a good excuse. Hand out the syllabi please."

Mindy held her breath, praying that he wouldn't see her. She hunched down in her seat and stared intently at the paper in front of her. He had seen her, of course, almost from the very first moment he'd entered the room. And now he was standing perilously close to her, a stack of syllabi hovering inches from her nose. She snatched at it, eyes wide as she stared at Danny in confusion as she passed them along to her classmates.

He smiled, almost imperceptibly before turning back to Professor Garibaldi. "Got carried away last night, doing research for a book."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I am so bad at doing what I say I'm going to do. This was supposed to be a one shot, but man, the comments on and reviews both on and ao3 were so wonderful and encouraging I just couldn't stop. :O Feel free to let me know what you all think. Enjoy.**

Sure, Danny had entertained the notion that he'd see her again on campus, maybe approach her with a devil may care smile, some cleverly flirtatious comment on his lips to make her smile, laugh even. He'd certainly never imagined this situation, hours stuck in her presence on a weekly basis, a morally gray ethical quandary that he'd picked the wrong side of facing him every time she strolled into the lecture hall.

Sometimes he was overwhelmed by the strangest sensations when he looked at her, the most vivid recollections would spring immediately to mind. The sound of her flying apart beneath his touch was the first thing that always drilled into his ears when he saw her walk into the room. It always sent an inescapable little thrill through him, even at the most inopportune moments.

But that was perhaps the most innocuous reaction she engendered in him. When she wore her hair down, he could recall the feather light sensation of it brushing across his face as she writhed on top of him, a whiff of citrus materializing from nowhere to invade his nostrils as he made notations in Garibaldi's calendar. He'd feel a rush of blood surge through him insisting he do something about it, overheating him as he sat in the drafty hall.

The worst part was when she smiled at some other student, never him, and he felt an echoe of desire ricocheting through him. It reminded him of the unfinished business between them, destined to remain unfinished indefinitely. He'd honestly thought he'd never lock eyes with her again, never be reminded of the way he'd taken matters into his own hands upon returning home, the way he'd let the scalding hot water run over him in the shower while he imagined the taste of her mouth, the way he'd abused himself while wondering what it would be like to be buried in the deep vee of her voluptuous thighs, availing himself of the heat he'd already sampled.

It was a problem, one that he took drastic measures to solve. He soon realized seeking out her face during class was a biggest part of the problem, so he began lugging homework with him to fill the time while Garibaldi droned on. But it wasn't enough. He soon discovered that she was in the weekly chem lab he instructed, so he traded in some long held favors and switched with one of the other TA's, putting a uncomfortable crimp in his already pathetic social life.

Still, it was impossible to eradicate all interaction. She sat in the front row, eagerly lapping up all the information laid at her feet, and he couldn't help but look at her when she was directly in front of him. He practiced a grumpy expression to hide the irresistible interest he felt when she caught his eyes, an expression that he knew seemed cold. It's just the way it needed to be. He couldn't have any impropriety surrounding him, not at this point. He was so close to finishing everything and moving on to the next long awaited step.

So, the pang of loss he felt at this very moment as some overly confident bozo slipped in easily beside her, chatting her up, was just something he'd have to deal with. It wasn't any of his business anyway, and it definitely wasn't jealousy that motivated him to approach the aforementioned bozo immediately after class either.

"You in this class?"

Rather than answer him, the mystery guy glided over to him, his hand outstretched in an obvious invitation. "No, I'm auditing. The name's Brendan."

"Daniel." Ignoring the proffered hand, Danny just glared at him. "Do you have your paperwork? I'll need to see it before you can continue attending the lectures."

Coolly, Brendan pulled a neatly folded paper from his pocket, handing it over without hesitation. Danny snatched it from his grasp, making a few notations in his notebook, snorting as he read Brendan's area of study. "Methods of Homeopathic research?"

Brendan merely nodded, the zen expression never leaving his features as Danny shoved the crumpled paper back in his outstretched hand. "You seem a little tense, for a TA. I lead a group meditation on the quad every Sunday afternoon. You should come."

Before Danny could voice the automatic refusal of Brendan's invitation, a cheerful voice cut into their conversation. "Brendan, Brendan…" She ran up beside them, slightly out of breath. "I forgot to give you my number, so you could help me study." Mindy smiled sweetly at the both of them, a tiny scrap of paper held between her well manicured fingers.

Brendan turned his pleased expression to Mindy, slipping the paper from her fingers before he grasped them with his own. He drew her hand to him, brushing a light kiss against the back of her knuckles. "Thank you, Mindy. It'll be a pleasure I'm sure."

And with that Brendan made his exit as smoothly as he'd entered, leaving Danny frowning after him. He turned to Mindy. "I'm not sure how much help he'll be for you. He's not even in this class."

"Oh, please. Like I need help. I just wanted to give him my number." She winked at Danny and very nearly skipped out of the building.

* * *

><p>Dr. Garibaldi's office was just one more thing that reinforced Danny's determination to finish his degree and move on to med school. Academia had relegated the smartest man he'd ever known to working out of a space the size of shoe box. It just wasn't for him, not Danny Castellano.<p>

He'd had the small bedroom growing up, shared with a brother so much younger that it was borderline strange having bunk beds. He'd lived on the shoe string budget, clipping coupons with his mom Saturday mornings. He was good and ready for a life of luxury and ease.

Which is why he didn't mind working multiple jobs and shouldering his TA responsibilities while pulling all nighters in the university library. It was tough, and sometimes he felt the stress pressing in on him, but he was certain there would be a grand payoff in the near future.

Sometimes, when he stayed late to grade papers for Garibaldi, and everyone else in the chemistry department left for the day, he even found the current life he lead to be pleasant. There weren't many places he had peace and quiet, the guys he boarded with barging in at all hours, the occasional high pitched girlish squeal in the living room. It made him painfully aware of the years he'd taken off, the numerically small yet maturationally huge gap between him and his roommates.

Garibaldi was an old school kind of guy, someone with an ancient record player sitting on a dusty shelf between his leather bound books, a select few records resting just within reach. He made a mental note to construct something like this for himself whenever he was lucky enough to have his own place, a masculine space with his favorite things all within arm's length, an unspoken aura of privacy surrounding it.

There was one record that Danny particularly liked, the cover graced with a round faced Bob Dylan, his baby fat still clinging to him, a guitar clutched to him like a shield. The songs on it weren't like anything Danny had listened to growing up. They didn't have the brash confidence of Bruce Springsteen, the musical journey of, well, Journey. There was no unrelenting swell of sound pumping through his veins at it crescendoed in a declaration of rebellion. It meandered, in and out of lengthy stories, the acoustic guitar's occasionally twanging strings strangely complementary to the flaws in Dylan's voice. The self titled album so aptly named. This is it. This is me.

It was the first thing he did before sitting down to mark up the pristine white papers in front of him. Dropping the needle delicately in the first groove had become a ritual of sorts. Danny had always had trouble unwinding, but there was something about the familiar crackle of the vinyl that had just enough nostalgia in it to loosen his tightly coiled muscles.

At the moment, his grading pen lay forgotten beside a stack of Freshman chem tests, his head dropped back against the leather padding of the office chair. The stress of this week needed a little more time than usual to roll off his shoulders. Three times this week he'd found himself on the phone with his petulant little brother, having a one sided conversation about acceptable behavior, his mother in the background going on and on about her wayward child. Richie had been getting into tussles at school lately, coming home with scraped knuckles and the occasional black eye, and when Danny tried to pry out the reasons behind these altercations, Richie only responded with stony silence.

Danny breathed deep even inhalations as the music crackled his ears, thinking maybe he'd stay here a while after finishing his tasks. He couldn't put up with Andrew tonight, the crass undergrad going on and on about his lays, and now, pestering him constantly for updates on Danny's nearly non-existent social life. It rankled.

Quietly the last song faded out, leaving an unsettling white noise as the needle circled in the lock groove. Danny raised his hands to rub the exhaustion from his eyes before rising to restart the record. Danny smiled. When Garibaldi went old school, he _really_ went old school, the player in front of him an antique compared to the one sitting in his childhood bedroom.

He gently lowered the player's arm with his index finger, the needle millimeters away from the lead-in at the edge of the record.

"Excuse me!"

Danny nearly dropped the needle, his shoulders tensing at the sharp greeting echoing from the hall. He'd left the office door open in an effort to stave off the inevitable feeling of claustrophobia that came with sitting in a windowless office.

He felt his shoulders involuntarily roll back, his legs spread into a wider stance as he shut off the record player, turning toward her. Mindy Lahiri. He knew it before he saw her, the distinctive high and tinkling tone of her voice something he'd gotten used to over the past several weeks. She was a top student, chiming in frequently on Garibaldi's lectures. There she was, poking her head in while she knocked belatedly on the door jamb, her hair falling in a silken wave as she leaned across the threshold.

Abruptly he turned away from her, taking his seat once again behind the desk, feigning undue interest in the papers before him. "Garibaldi's not here, come back tomorrow during his office hours. They're listed on the syllabus."

Ignoring his sharp tone she stepped through the doorway anyway, smiling as she curiously looked around her. "I wasn't looking for Dr. Garibaldi." She adjusted her messenger bag, the strap digging into her shoulder somewhat, the weight of the thing obvious as it swung at her side. She stepped toward him, wedging herself into the tiny space in front of Garibaldi's bookshelf. The collection of various knickknacks drew her attention. She peered closely at a plastic molecular model. "That Garibaldi's one wild dude. Can you imagine him at like Woodstock or something, tripping through the fields while Jimi Hendrix played in the background?"

He set down the paper he'd been fingering, total confusion sweeping over his features. "What are you talking about?"

She picked up the model, turning back to him as she dropped her bag in the floor. Her eyes were wide as she used it to gesture at him. "You don't see it? Really? I thought you were some science genius or something, pulling Garibaldi's TA spot." She presented it to him like a model on the price is right, elegantly pointing to the various parts. "Lysergic acid diethylamide?"

He frowned at her, flipping through his mental encyclopedia until he landed on that particular molecule. "What? No it's not."

She nodded, a look of smug satisfaction spreading across her face. "Yes it is." She upended the model, scanning the bottom of it before handing it to him to inspect. "It _so _is."

Danny was speechless, feeling bested by the perky woman practically bouncing on her heels in front of him. "That old hippie must have some fond memories of tripping on LSD."

Danny felt a little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He couldn't help but find her recall abilities impressive. "I'm sure he's just impressed with the drug's hallucinogenic properties, and its fascinating history in relation to organic chemistry. Good eye though."

She dropped down in the chair across from him, squeezing her knees up against the front of the desk. "Don't be such a stick in the mud, Daniel. Lots of successful and famous people have done LSD, and they all say it's a very enlightening experience. Aldous Huxley… Steve Jobs… even Dan Rather."

"The news anchor?"

She nodded in affirmation. "And I don't just have a good eye. I'm intelligent." She reached down to scoop her bag off the floor. "Which is why I'm here."

Her tone shifted from flirtatious to combative in the blink of an eye, and it had him straightening in his chair defensively. He opened his mouth. "No one ever said you weren't smart, Ms. Lahiri."

She rolled her eyes, a juvenile act that should have undermined her argument, but it only made him wary. Reaching into the bag, she found what she was looking for and pulled it out in a dramatic flourish. "Would you drop the 'Ms. Lahiri' crap, you know my name, ok. Just stop. And as a matter of fact, _you_ have said that I'm not smart."

"What? No, I haven't."

"Well, at least implied." She tossed the paper on the desk in front of him. "This is _not _a C paper. This is an A paper, that has a clearly stated thesis and scores of supporting arguments and citations, and _just _because you're not used to the 'overly floral' lexicon I have at my disposal, it doesn't mean that it deserves a lesser grade."

"What makes you think I graded it?"

She threw him the most disgusted look in her arsenal, her lip curling in distaste. "Oh, please. Of course you graded it. Garibaldi is a forward thinking scientist, who only cares about the facts presented him, and not from whence they come. You, on the other hand, can't seem to stop your personal relationship with me from getting in the way of your ability to properly dole out grades. Plus, that's obviously your tiny little repressed handwriting all over the back page."

"Personal relationship? What personal relationship?" The volume of his voice rose unexpectedly, his hands palming the desk in front of him.

"Are you kidding me? We spend three hours together every single Saturday morning!"

He looked at her like she was crazy. "And seventy five other students. Before today I've had exactly _one _interaction with you, and that was before I knew you were a student in this particular class. I'll put it this way. I have the same personal relationship with you as that lamp. The lamp provides light to that particular part of this room, and you… you do whatever it is you do, wherever it is you do it." He nodded toward the desk lamp in front of him, the light glowing from it under the thin green glass shade. "_Ms. Lahiri_ I bear zero ill will toward you, in fact I bear nothing toward you at all."

"The lamp?" Fire blazed in her eyes. "Are you _kidding _me." She dropped her normal high pitched cheer, her voice going down at least an octave in her indignation.

Seeing her off balance, made him suddenly feel even keeled once again. He leaned back in the chair, even propping his legs on the corner of the desk, fingers laced behind his head. "Of course, maybe I should refrain from grading any of your papers from here on out, seeing as how you've formed such a clearly unlamplike attachment to myself."

"Can I take one moment to indulge this utterly narcissistic conversation, rife with made up words, and ask you what the hell you're talking about?"

"I see how you sneak glances at me while Garibaldi is yammering on about molecular weights. You've got it bad. It's only natural. Inexperienced co-ed, latching on to the first person to give her a little attention."

She shook her head, the heat building in her making her eyes glow. "That's absurd." She angrily rose from the chair, jerking her messenger bag up off the floor. She extricated herself from the tight space stomping toward the door. She couldn't quite leave though. Spinning on her heel she turned back to him. "As a matter of fact, Daniel, I do believe you're the one harboring unlamplike feelings for _me. _You never graded me so harshly before…"

"Before what?" Danny could feel the sweat glistening on his brow. He knew the tell tale dark splotches would soon be blooming across the fabric of his cotton button down in a matter of minutes.

"Before Brendan started walking me to and from class every single day. You're jealous."

"Jealous? That idiot isn't even taking the class. He's _auditing._" He spat out the word as if it were a rotten piece of meat. "I repeat, we have no personal relationship, so there's nothing to be jealous about. You're nothing but a lamp to me."

She clenched her jaw, a strangled growl of frustration escaping before she turned and left. She couldn't resist one last barb as she stomped away, yelling at the top of her lungs. "You sure enjoyed inspecting this lamp's wires, didn't you Danny?"

He listened to the echoing clicks of her heels in the hall until they faded completely away. For the life of him he couldn't figure out what part of him wanted to go running after her.

* * *

><p>There were tears streaming down her face, but she wasn't sad or even upset. She was angry, a fire in her belly with no outlet. If he wasn't her TA she would have slapped him as hard as possible, relished the sting of her fingers against his skin. If only actions didn't have consequences. Wouldn't that just be perfect?<p>

She couldn't see past her boiling rage, stomping down the hall toward the exit, her fingers trembling as they clenched and unclenched around the strap of her messenger bag. She knew she must look like a lunatic, the mascara running down her face in sooty little rivulets. Her endorphins had to have some kind of release, it was either this or pummeling a certain cocky Italian into a bloody pulp.

She rounded the corner at full speed, head down as she tried to regain her composure. A human wall met her, knocking her nearly flat on her ass, messenger bag flying off her shoulder, contents spilling out across the floor.

Something inside of her broke and the floodgates opened, fully formed sobs wracking her as she drew her knees up to her chest. She let the human roadblock collect her belongings and stick them back into her bag without a word, tucking her face into her knees in embarrassment. It wasn't until she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder that she looked up.

Clear understanding eyes stared down at her, one hand held out in offering. "Brendan… What are you doing here?" She took his hand, and rose unsteadily to her feet.

"I was walking by and couldn't help but sense some clearly unpleasant vibes emanating from this building. I had to investigate, just in case." He eyed her carefully, taking a step back and squinting. "You're aura seems… different than before. Are you upset?"

Brendan was sweet, but she fought the urge to roll her eyes, anyone who wasn't blind could see she was upset. "Um… yeah, but it's nothing. I'll get over it." She pursed her lips together. "No, you know what. It's not fine. Not at all." She turned toward Brendan, head held high. "I'm sick of people thinking I can either be girly OR smart. That I can like science OR pop culture. That somehow my interest in one precludes an ability to be taken seriously in regards to the other. It's damn sexist, if you ask me."

Brendan nodded. "Yes, yes. I agree. The patriarchy is quite disturbing. I take it someone in particular has hit a nerve today?"

She nodded, a little leary of blabbing about her conversation with Danny. Brendan took it in stride. "Don't worry. I'm fairly certain I know the source of your discomfiture." He leaned forward, placing a hand on each of her shoulders as he looked deeply into her eyes. "Don't let Danny make you feel less than you are, Mindy."

She felt a tiny smile spread across her face. His motivational-poster-worthy generic advice was a bit silly, but she still found it endearing that he cared enough to offer it. She opened her mouth to reply, but he swooped in close, laying an affectionate kiss on her cheek.

"How did you know it was him?"

Brendan turned, guiding her out of the building. "Because he's been watching you from the end of the hall since you ran into me. So predatory."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Omg, I'm kind of astonished at the reception this story has gotten on AO3 and FF. I appreciate the reviews and comments I've received so so much, and hope that anyone feels free to leave their thoughts about anything at all. I feel like I've found the direction that I want this story to go in, and I sincerely hope I can keep up with it and actually finish it. Fair warning, this chapter kicks off with an awkward and shall we say, unfulfilling intimate scene. Read at your own risk. :P**

The spiderweb of cracks running along Brendan's ceiling did not merit the scrutiny Mindy was giving it. The small water stain beside the light fixture wasn't so fascinating she couldn't take her eyes off of it. There wasn't some hidden meaning in the almost invisible dust bunnies clinging to the blades of the ceiling fan, but no one could be blamed for thinking that maybe the answer to life's biggest questions lay somewhere in these details. Mindy's single minded attention was very misleading.

There were other things, of course, she could pay attention to. The erratic panting at her ear, hot puffs unpleasantly moist against the exposed skin of her neck, or the incessant creaking of the tiny twin bed as he rose and fell over her, punctuated by the unusually disturbing sound of thighs smacking against her ass. The ceiling just seemed like a better option.

Not that this was unpleasant, not really. Six months ago she would have thought it par for the course, and probably could have even found something likeable about the persistent way he did the same thing over and over and over again. They were connected in a way that was all too reminiscent of her sexual experiences in high school. He was inside of her, one hand clumsily palming her breast while the other was braced against the headboard. She should have felt something, it should have been fireworks and explosions. But no, flat on her back, her legs passively bracketing his hips, she felt like she was waiting it to begin, some shadow of pleasure hovering just out of reach as Brendan continued his supposed tried and true methods.

She sighed as his thrusts became more frenzied, his breaths coming out in irregular little grunts at her ear. It certainly didn't seem like she would be given the time to reach for the pleasure waiting in the distance.

That's not to say there wasn't pleasure to be had. Their makeout session had left her feeling breathless and more than a little hot under the collar, fueled perhaps by the anger she still felt coursing through her veins. She'd been so eager to get to the good part... this part.

For a man who talked about souls connecting and "reaching other planes of existence" he was surprisingly vanilla in the sack, immediately pinning her to the mattress once the barrier of their clothes had been removed, sinking into her with an almost smug grunt of satisfaction.

She'd even been willing to give him the benefit of the doubt when she'd seen a copy of the Kama Sutra lying on his nightstand, thinking maybe it was just a misguided attempt to seem sexually and spiritually adventurous and not, as was probable, a calculated purchase in an effort to "connect" with her culturally.

When they'd' stumbled into his room, he'd gestured to the obviously new book lying on his bed amongst his textbooks. "Oh, let me move these." He'd sent her a provocative glance, and she'd known. She was dealing with a bit of a tool.

It didn't stop her though, she shoved past the irritation over his obvious attempt to connect to her "culturally" (as if that was something every Indian chick wanted, a man well versed in impossible sexual positions, idiot).

She was a woman on a mission though, and Brendan, for all his misguided gaffes, had always treated her kindly. She'd just have to let him know how transparent he was at a times, as a friend of course, and educate him on the literally thousands of other things that were awesome about Indian culture, and also maybe the tens of things that were interesting about Concord, Massachusetts.

Her hands traveled to his back, involuntarily comparing his trapezius muscles to the last ones she'd traced her fingertips across. There were no similarities there. Even through a layer of soft cotton, she'd been able to feel the hard muscles of Danny's back rippling as she'd attacked his lips. Brendan was soft under her fingers, not in a bad way exactly. There was just an absence of tightly coiled energy, his skin not quite as taut as she would have imagined, definitely not radiating the waves of heat she'd felt pour off Danny. She absentmindedly wondered what Daniel Castellano did in his spare time.

She closed her eyes, tired of the off-white ceiling filling her vision, and honestly tried to bring her thoughts back to the present. She'd read somewhere that all female orgasms began and ended in the brain, some lucky women being able to achieve climax without a single touch, if only she could focus.

She concentrated first on her breathing, taking in deep breaths in time to Brendan's strokes, moaning as she lingered on the nearly negligible friction against her clit, hoping to magnify it with the power of thought. What did they say? Fake it till you make it? There had to be some validity to that method.

It sort of worked, a little, more when she wrapped her legs firmly around him, locking her ankles and arching her hips at a more productive angle. A little whimper spilled forth as she got a faint intimation of what could come. She arched up in search of Brendan's lips, but he buried his face in her hair and let out a loud groan. He was completely stiff against her. Well, not _completely_. He held himself impossibly still for a few seconds before withdrawing and collapsing on the bed beside her.

She glanced at the clock, shifting against the movement of the mattress as he slipped off the used condom, depositing it in the wastebasket. Sufficient time had passed, she supposed, for Brendan to consider this a success, and she wondered if maybe there was something wrong with her, if the night with Danny had been a fluke.

She shrugged off the thought, thinking instead that at least it would be pleasant to fall asleep with someone, his arms wrapped around her as they drifted. She could admit that, in the past, her favorite thing about sex had been post-coital cuddling.

Settling in, she tugged the comforter up under her chin and waited for him to turn back around. Her wait was short, but it didn't end the way she expected. He dipped down to drop a kiss on her forehead, pulling back to ask, "Do you need me to walk you back to your room?"

There was a buzzing in her ears, a swarm of angry bees trapped inside her skull as she processed the unexpected question. She could see his lips continued to move, but the words just couldn't make it through the din. Somewhere in the back of her mind was a tiny voice telling her to spring from the bed, stand boldly before him in her birthday suit and declare him unfit for the likes of Mindy Lahiri. The voice was completely drowned out as she watched his lips curve up into a self satisfied smile, waiting for some kind of response from her.

"Mindy, hello? Did you hear a word I just said?"

She shook her head, unwilling to open her mouth for fear of what might come out. A petulant whine and an angry diatribe fought for position in her throat. Brendan's powers of perception were not as honed as he believed, his smile widening as he looked at her. "That good, huh?"

Mindy snorted in disbelief, watching as he pushed himself off the bed, strolling casually to his chest of drawers to pull out a pair of boxers. The light of his lamp cast strange shadows over his body, and she realized for the first time that she wasn't particularly attracted to him, although he did have a nice butt. The sudden hilarity of the situation washed over her. The man really was totally clueless. "Uh, yeah… sure. Could you repeat yourself, please?"

He nodded, stepping into a pair of polka-dot silk shorts. "I was telling you I could walk you to your dorm. It's not that out of the way, and I do like a good night time stroll. I find the quiet meditative."

"You don't want me to stay?" She knew the answer, but some sadistic area of her brain was sending the electric impulses to her lips anyway.

He looked up, a thoughtful expression on his face, as though he were weighing the pros and cons of such an arrangement. "Well, I'm sure it would be nice, but we both have class early, and that bed is small." He sauntered over to her, running the back of his knuckles across her cheek.

She leaned into the touch, her traitorous body responding to the sweet gesture. "And I know you don't want to try to complete your extensive beauty regimen the communal bathroom down the hall."

She withdrew, her temporary naivete vanishing. "Extensive? Excuse me? I'll have you know I wake up flawless." She jumped up, pushing past him as her feet touched the floor. Her eyes scanned the room quickly, looking for her hastily discarded clothing. She spied her dress hanging off the end of his bed, underwear and bra a few feet from that. "Of course _you_ wouldn't know that… _won't _know that."

Dropping the sheet she darted for the clothing, the muscles working in her jaw as she pulled her panties on and fasted her bra clasp. Her fingers trembled in anger as she slipped the dress over her shoulders, struggling to grasp at the closure.

He came up behind her, helpfully drawing the zipper up to the back of her neck, holding her hair out of the way, his fingers making short work of the little decorative button. Soft lips pressed gently against the back of her neck briefly. She whirled on him, hating that his argument was logical, that she had nothing to say against it really.

She slipped her flats on and scooped up her messenger bag. "No need to walk me back, Brendan. I've got a can of mace and switchblade in this outer pocket." She patted the leather satchel menacingly, giving him a glare as she swung the door to his room open.

She was out in the hall before he could manage a reply, the harsh fluorescent lighting making the green carpeting look like baby vomit. Identical doors flew by as she speed-walked the length the building. Would this hallway never end? She felt like she was trapped in another dimension, walking along a conveyor belt intent on sending her in the opposite direction.

Finally she reached the end of the seemingly infinite hallway, hand reaching out to open the heavy outside door. She couldn't help but pause though, casting one last sad look to see if he'd changed his mind. She waited a beat longer than was necessary, disappointment making her arms heavy as she pushed through the exit.

The cold night air hit her unexpectedly, the temperature having dropped dramatically in the time she'd been inside. She loved the fall, but it never seemed like she had the proper attire. It was always either colder than she'd expected or warmer. A gust of wind pulled at the hem of her dress, sending a sharp chill across her skin. Tucking her arms in, she ducked her head down and made a run for her building.

* * *

><p>Danny slipped his coat on, glancing at his watch one more time before flipping the collar up. It seemed as though winter was making itself known in the frigid atmosphere, a chilly dampness that hinted at possible precipitation to come. He wondered if it might snow, blanket the campus in white. A part of him leftover from childhood secretly hoped it would, even though he knew how inconvenient rescheduling Garibaldi's meetings and rearranging his syllabi would be if classes were actually cancelled. The hope was chased by a stab of guilt when he realized he wouldn't get to take Richie to the park this year after the first snow, too many obligations getting in the way.<p>

Out of habit he shoved his hand down in the pocket of his coat, searching for the crumpled cellophane pack of Marlboros he kept there. He was a closet smoker, doing it only in the cover of darkness, shoulders hunched against the inquiring glances of passersby. He knew it was bad for him, and he knew the looks that people would give him if they knew, but some days were just one thing after another and by the time he got to the end his nerves were a frayed knot, inches away from coming unraveled.

Cigarettes helped, a little. He knew it was an illusion, and in fact that they increased his blood pressure, arteries constricting as the stimulants coursed through his veins, but that momentary release of tension was worth the price he paid on his subsequent morning jogs.

He picked up his pace, the cigarette travelling to his lips for a deep drag every couple seconds, lungs burning as the smoke circulated through them, the almost ashy taste on his tongue pleasant after a such a disappointing day.

He smoked the thing down to the butt, frowning as the ember reached the gold line separating the filter from the tobacco. He was tempted hastily withdraw another one, light if off the dying cherry, but chain smoking wasn't something he wanted to start so he pinched the end and sent it flying into the nearest trash can.

The level of tension riding in his shoulders didn't decrease, the anxiety in the back of his mind didn't shift into something more manageable. He supposed it was different when there was something specific bothering you. A crutch like nicotine could do little to prop up the calm facade when reality refused to be ignored. He was irritated with himself, with his reaction to a certain beautiful co-ed, with her attraction to a certain 'namaste' saying, homeopathic remedy specialist wannabe… Great, now his thoughts were rambling at him, that was never a good sign.

Finally his car came into view, bathed in a pool of cold white light emanating from a buzzing lamp post. All he had to do was drive home, crawl into the comfort of his large bed, draw the goose down comforter up over his head and try to forget everything that had transpired this evening. The scene read easily in his mind, but he knew it would be all but impossible to fall asleep with this hollow feeling in his chest.

If he'd only been more tactful, slower to respond to her clearly provocative words. But damn it, the truth of what she'd been saying had cut him to the quick, and he didn't want to admit it. Yes, he was jealous of Brendan, of the ease which everything seemed to come to the asshat. He wanted Mindy to himself, which was beyond stupid, because weeks ago he'd decided it was as bad idea and tried to put it completely out of his mind.

There was also no small amount of humiliation pressing down on him, the inane conversation about lamps running over and over in his mind, a fresh wave of embarrassment crashing over him each time he thought the word "unlamplike." He'd sounded like an idiot, almost instantly regretting the bent of their conversation, hearing the hurt buried beneath her parting barbs.

Just as he'd stepped out into the hall, determined to go after her, to apologize for the way he'd handled the situation, her books had gone flying, arms swinging out behind her to brace herself for a fall. His heart had leapt into his throat, worry stopping his diaphragm when she'd crumpled in a heap on the cold tile.

He'd taken two, maybe three steps before his brain issued the usual command. Wait. Wait. The cause of her disaster had stepped out from around the corner, and all the air had gone out of him, a deflating sensation he couldn't quite define encompassing him as he'd watched the two chat. Brendan pulling her up off the floor easily, her sweet smile as the other man had looked into her eyes, earnest words making her nod in appreciation, Brendan's smug glance in his direction immediately before kissing her gently.

Hands on his hips, Danny had turned and walked right back into the office, determined to finish all of his work for the week in one night, to stamp out the bottomless feeling in his gut. That had been hours ago, every sane person on campus was now tucked into bed, or had their noses buried in books as they studied. He hadn't encountered a soul as he made his way to the distant parking lot, doggedly marching from one pool of light to another.

Danny fumbled for the keys to his car, cursing the cold for his stiff fingers as he approached the compact little hatchback. He finally plucked the right one from the mix just as a blood curdling scream caught his attention. Without a thought he turned away from his car, sprinting toward the source of the sound.

* * *

><p>The screeching echo of her own vocal chords pierced Mindy's ear drums, sound waves vibrating painfully against the delicate structures. She snapped her mouth shut, hoping she hadn't drawn any unwanted attention, the scream turning into a sullen whimper.<p>

She couldn't see the cause of her violently wrenched ankle, the shadows she'd tumbled into obscuring her vision completely, but she did know she'd landed in an icy puddle, the back of her dress soaked through. She slammed her hands down onto the damp grass, feeling a tantrum roll through her limbs as her feet kicked out. Squeezing her eyes shut, she let go again, a second scream flying from her lips, this time in anger and frustration.

The wetness slipped through her fingers, colder than she'd expected, the unexpected slime of mud clinging to her skin as she gathered up little fistfulls of muck, plucking at tufts of grass and tossing them down angrily. She screamed for such a duration that her lungs gave out, squelching the sound unexpectedly as she gasped for air, her chest heaving.

The oxygen once again began to flow to her brain, and Mindy was struck by how ridiculous she must look, deranged even, eyes bugging out of her head like a maniac as she did some nighttime weeding. She knew she needed to pull herself together, limp sheepishly back to her room. She made a silent prayer, hoping against hope that Maggie was out for the night.

Her movements stilled, ankle throbbing with each beat of her overexcited heart, she simply stared at the expanse in front of her. She could see the tiny little lights, all neat in rows, the occasional one blacked out, windows in the buildings before her. The twinkle of christmas lights strung along the entrances of a few festive feeling dorms mesmerized her into an almost hypnotic state as she stared.

She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye, a dark shape darting in and out of the shadows. For a split second she believed she was seeing some wild creature loping across the campus, a tiny thrill of danger zipping through her as she imagined bared fangs and sharp talons. Squinting, she tried to catch the true shape of the figure as it darted under the next pool of light.

A true chill of terror settled in her bones when she realized it was a person… headed straight for her. Shit, shit, shit. Her already skittering heart began to beat wildly as she recalled the far carrying nature of her voice, the sound waves bouncing off the buildings, sailing through the empty night air.

She'd seen nature documentaries about this sort of thing. The poor defenseless baby monkey trapped in the quagmire of mud by the ever shrinking watering hole, simply waiting for death as its increasingly forlorn cries attracted the attention of nearby alligators. She blinked a dozen times, trying to adjust her eyesight to the darkness as she scanned her surroundings for her book bag.

Spying it, she immediately tried to get up, the but her swollen ankle protested, and she collapsed, landing square on her knees in the wet grass. Her survival instincts kicked in and she desperately crawled toward her book bag.

Her fingers brushed the leather strap at the same time she heard the quick cadence of someone running up behind her, his steps somewhat muffled by the springy turf. Suppressing the urge to curl into a ball and give in to the almost irresistible desire to throw up, she shoved her hand into the outer pocket, fingers brushing the thing she'd been seeking all along.

Whipping around dramatically, she raised her right hand, finger hovering on the trigger of her small can of mace as the panic bubbled up in her chest. She pressed down, just as her would be attacker knelt in front of her, one hand extended. "Mindy?"

She knew she'd fucked up majorly as soon as the atomized liquid splashed out against her fingers. She had the damn thing pointing in the wrong direction, a fog of irritant enveloping her almost immediately.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Took me a little while to get this one written, and I actually ended up rewriting a few chunks of it after I thought I was finished. Anway. I really liked this chapter, there's definitely no Brendan in it (which I'm told by a very reliable source that it's a plus). The saga of maced mindy continues. Please feel free to comment or leave reviews, I find them super encouraging (I love them, ok, shhh).**

Danny loped across the campus, the springy turf giving when he cut across the large swaths of grass between the sidewalks. He was still running in the direction of the scream, but the sounds had mysteriously stopped. His strides slowed, coming to a full stop as he strained his ears. Nothing.

Hands on hips he panted, the sheen of sweat cooling against his skin as he tried to figure out what he was supposed to do. There was someone out there, in distress, possibly in danger, and he couldn't just turn around and walk indifferently back to his car.

He pulled his phone out, fully intending to call 9-1-1 to report the incident, when the noises started up again, this time much closer than before. He instantly pocketed the device and dashed off in the direction it was coming from.

It didn't take him very long, he'd been close before, but had somehow veered off in the wrong direction. The screams increased in volume for a breath and then completely died away, his harsh rattle the only thing to fill his ears. It was in that dead quiet that he saw her, the distinct floral pattern of her dress the same one that had flounced angrily from Garibaldi's office.

Time stopped for a split second, the very beating of his heart absent it seemed, an icy hand of fear clutching at him. His sprint morphed into a flat out run, his brain creating and discarding a million scenarios for her prostrate position and muddy dress. Not a single one eased his mind.

His dilated pupils caught the beginning of movement, the swirling unease dissipating for a moment as she attempted to stand, immediately tumbling back to the ground. She scrambled clumsily on her hands and knees, looking for something, her back toward him. He wanted to call out, but his vocal chords had ceased to work.

He skidded to a halt, kneeling as she twisted around to face him, a wild look in her round eyes. "Mindy?" He started to kneel, and even extended a hand to help her up, her ankle appearing to be the source of her problems. But it was as if she were blind with fear, her dilated pupils taking in images that her brain couldn't quite process. Jerking toward him, Mindy threw one hand up dramatically in front of her.

Danny knew what he was seeing, but he couldn't believe it. His brain registered the fact that she was pointing a can of mace at him only mere seconds before her trembling finger pressed down on the trigger. He jerked back, bracing himself for the inevitable burning sensation that would soon chase across his skin, but nothing happened. Opening one eye cautiously, he peeked down at her as she let out a strangled yell.

Her eyes were squeezed shut, an involuntary reaction against the fog of irritant, tears instantly streaming down her cheeks in response to the spray. She coughed as the mace made its way into her sinuses, no doubt burning down her throat, hands shaking violently as she held them out in front of her. He knew she was about to sink irretrievably into panic, her breaths bordering on hyperventilation. Danny did the only thing he could think of, his own panic beginning to edge up on him. He yelled at her to calm down, voice cracking as it issued the command. It wasn't particularly effective.

She screamed up at him, her eyes popping open in rage. "Calm down!? CALM DOWN!" She'd gone past the point of words hiccuping between sobs. He'd never known what to do with a crying woman. His mother only employed tears to guilt him into doing things, and the only thing he knew to do when girls cried about their feelings was clam up and hope it abated. This was different, she was in physical pain, and he could see her unravelling in front of him.

Funnily enough, it reminded him of Richie, her hysterical sobs striking a protective chord in him. The same fear had clutched at him when he'd seen his kid brother lying in the street, holding his shoulder. The damn hand-me-down bicycle lying a few yards away, his brother's shrieks echoing against the pavement. He'd spoken to Richie in a low volume, trying to radiate a calm he hadn't felt as he'd inspected the younger boys dislocated shoulder.

After a split second of indecision, Danny reached forward, hooking his hands under her arms to haul her to her feet. The sobbing stopped for a second, and she blinked rapidly trying to look at him. "Oh my god I'm blind. I've blinded myself. I'll never be a doctor. My parents will send me to live on a farm. I'M NOT LAURA INGALLS WILDER, DANNY! I CAN'T LIVE IN A LITTLE HOUSE!"

He tamped down his instinct to yell right back at her, to tell her she was being stupid. Instead he gave her a gentle squeeze as he pulled her out into a more visible area to inspect the damage she'd done. "Shhh, shhh… it's ok." Finding a bench, he guided her to it. She continued to cry, but there was a blessed absence of yelling and he considered it a win.

He withdrew from the bench, intent on retrieving her bag and inspecting the can she'd dropped on the ground. He needed to know exactly what he was dealing with. She whimpered, her hands flying out in his general direction. "Where are you going?"

"I'll be right back, just gonna grab your bag. You don't have any water in it do you?"

She nodded, gulping in cold air a little too quickly. He turned back to the patch of mud she'd been wallowing in. What the hell had she been doing on the ground anyway? He'd noticed her swollen ankle, but it hardly seemed like something that could account for her dishevelled state, mud caked in between her fingers, leaves in her hair. And what had caused the horrifying screams that had drawn his attention?

He snatched up her bag, and knelt down to look at the can. He wasn't about to pick it up, but it only took him half a second of inspection with the light of his phone to ascertain that she hadn't blasted herself just with mace, but rather pepper spray, which was infinitely worse.

Jogging back over to her, he slid along the bench until his legs brushed up against hers. "Hold still." She complied, responding to the command surprisingly well. "Look straight up."

Again, she did, turning her face upward to the harsh light over them, the whites of her eyes totally bloodshot, her skin just beginning to show signs of puffiness. She sniffled as the tears continued to pour involuntarily from her ducts.

The current period of calm was immediately shattered when Danny unceremoniously poured half a bottle of freezing cold water over her face, leaving her sputtering, hands flying up to dash it away.

He caught her wrists. "Do NOT touch your face. Are you insane?" He felt the sting against his fingers, the residue still clinging to her skin reminding him of the pain she must be in. He softened a little. "That's the last thing you want, ok?"

He gently pulled her hands back to him again, dousing them with the remaining water. "This probably won't help much. You need to get something to neutralize the capsaicin. You haven't got any Maalox, or even milk at your place do you?"

"Sorry, all out of Maalox, my grandmother raided my medicine cabinet, and milk is gross. It makes _some_ people gassy, and some _other _people who live with those people don't like that." Despite her attempt to be flip, he could feel her hands shaking, the cold seeping into her skin. She shouldn't be out here much longer, the temperature dropping as they spoke.

He felt his shoulders tense as the necessity of their situation dawned on him. He had to bring her back to his place. He felt his hackles rising as the image of her poking her nose through his things flashed before him. He didn't want her dragging her brightly manicured fingers through his carefully organized possessions. "Come on."

She nodded and he got up, slinging her bag over his shoulder with his own, before turning back to help her up. "Hold on a second."

She stared at him open mouthed, futilely trying to blink away the bleariness as he took off his coat. The expression didn't change much as he draped the heavy garment over her shoulders, although if Danny had stopped and really looked, he would have seen the gears turning slowly in her mind as she threaded her arms through the sleeves.

* * *

><p>Mindy felt like human popsicle, an inescapable chill seeping into wet clothing. Her steps were wobbly, the muscles in her calves jittery as her body attempted to turn kinetic energy into warmth. She loved winter, but this was too much, her teeth were basically chattering as wave after wave of goose bumps chased across her skin. Grateful for Danny's silently offered coat, she tucked her hands down into the pockets, her chin dipping below the collar in an effort to escape the cold air. The fingers of one hand curiously traced along the edge of a distinct cellophane wrapper.<p>

It didn't entirely surprise her. She'd smelled the musty odor of a recently smoked cigarette on the front of his shirt when he'd hauled her up off the ground, his hands bigger than she'd remembered as they'd gripped her arms. It was a smell that still invaded her sinuses as she limped along beside him, on arm threaded through his as he dragged her along. For someone who was barely inches taller than her, he certainly walked fast, his determined stride unrelenting in his quest to get to the car.

Her vision began to clear almost immediately, the water having done it's job pretty well. It didn't hurt that her hand had blocked the majority of the irritant. She could now see him each time they passed under a streetlamp, his face lit by harsh white light at even intervals. He had a frown line between his eyebrows cast in stark relief by the lights, his face set in an irritated expression. She could only imagine the look he'd worn when he'd first found her. If the gravelly and clipped tone to his voice had been any indication, it had probably been much the same.

They drove in silence for a good five minutes, the quiet lulling her as she counted the street lamps passing by. She was genuinely appreciative of his help, and even made it a full ten minutes before asking, in a whiny tone, "How much longer?"

He'd only taken his eyes away from the road for a split second, cutting her a sideways glance before facing forward again. "Where'd you get pepper spray anyway? I thought civilians weren't allowed to have that stuff."

"Civilians? Who are you? Cagney? It's perfectly legal… I think… someone gave it to me."

His head jerked back to her, eyebrows shooting up. "What? Cagney's a woman."

She shrugged indifferently. "It's before my time anyway."

He opened his mouth to argue again, but snapped it shut when he realized she was egging him on. Mindy smiled at his restraint, leaning toward him to bump against his shoulder. "Hey… thanks."

She watched him carefully, the glow of the dash light leaving a strange blue sheen to his skin. His lips twitched and he loosened the grip on the steering wheel. "Any time, Lahiri."

The steam filling up the bathroom curled the hair brushing against the back of his collar, the sound of the running faucet providing the backdrop for the argument he was having. "I swear to God, this is what paramedics use. Just sit down already."

She frowned at him. "Did you mix it correctly? I don't want to walk around with some rash or something because you doused me in undiluted antacids."

"First of all, why would that give you a rash? You already soaked your hands, didn't you? And second of all, it's half and half, not exactly hard to figure out."

She bit her bottom lip, walking over to the edge of the bathtub. She gingerly leaned on the edge of it, beckoning him to come closer with one hand. "I hate getting stuff in my eyes, ok, it's like a phobia." She slipped down into the tile floor, inexplicably lying on her back as she took a deep breath. "You're gonna have to hold me down while you flush my eyes with it, and I warn you, I will almost certainly throw a punch."

Danny continued to stare down at her, hands on his hips. She was a disaster, her once pretty dress muddy and sopping wet, hair frizzy where it had dried unevenly on the trip home, mascara running in dark lines down her cheeks. He felt a pang of sympathy for her, still curious as to why she'd been running across the campus in the dark.

He knelt beside her, one hand resting on her shoulder as he carefully aimed the nozzle of his spray bottle at her. Swallowing, he hesitated. "Why don't you just… take a few deep breaths or something, like meditating. Isn't that what your best friend is always doing?"

There it was, the cutting edge to his voice that she'd been expecting all along. She squeezed her eyes shut, her mouth closing a firm line of displeasure. Danny leaned back, wondering for a moment why Brendan hadn't been with her when she'd fallen. They'd left together, hadn't they? "Where was the crystal wielding medicine man, anyway? You haven't mentioned him."

She opened her eyes, intending to look at him, but an unexpected wave of embarrassment crashed over her, and she turned her head to the side, focusing instead on the line of caulking between the tub and floor tiles. She was uncharacteristically quiet. "For your information… and it's really none of your business… I didn't mention him, because there's nothing worth mentioning."

Danny remained quiet, sensing there was something more. He waited for her to continue.

"He's kind of a jerk."

Danny felt a little flutter of relief in his chest, something intangible releasing as he considered her words. "He didn't...?" Danny trailed off, afraid to voice the question in his mind. It had hardly been something he'd even considered, but the mere thought had his jaw clenched.

She quickly shook her head, a little alarmed by the intense look Danny was giving her. "No, no, nothing like that."

"But he treated you badly?"

She nodded, sighing a little. "Sort of. Are you happy now?"

Danny was affronted by her question. Did he seem that way to her, like he wanted her to reap the bad decisions she made? It would be better if she just didn't make them at all. He felt tongue tied searching for an answer. Clearing his throat he said the only thing that came to mind. "He's an idiot for treating you badly, I mean, he's an idiot anyway, but…" He trailed off, losing his train of thought as she stared up at him, her bloodshot eyes wide. He remembered why they were there, in such odd positions. "Let's get this over with then."

He reached over her to turn off the faucet before the tub overflowed, returning to hover over her. He gently pressed down on her shoulder, holding her to the floor as she'd advised before flooding her eyes with the solution in his hand.

As promised she involuntarily jerked away from him, one hand flying up and catching him square in the nose. He fell back against the cabinet, and she popped up gasping out an apology. Scrambling across the tile, she reached for his face, attempting to inspect the damage.

He jerked away. "No, no.. it's alright." Pulling himself up, he shuffled toward the door, one hand probing the bridge of his nose. He nodded toward the shelf over the toilet. "There are towels over there, just get yourself cleaned up."

Before she could even respond, the door was clicking behind him, and she was left alone, the sound of the dripping faucet the only thing to fill the quiet.

* * *

><p>The ends of her hair dipped down into the hot water, floating gently above the curve of her breasts peeking above the surface. The temperature was only mildly irritating to her skin, it's benefits outweighing the small discomfort. She was grateful that a bath had been her only option. She certainly couldn't have stood on one foot in a slippery shower for the time it took her to scrub away the filth of the night. Although, it might have been more than interesting to have Danny help her remain upright while showering.<p>

She smiled, soaping her hair with Danny's two in one shampoo. She lamented the lack of her own expensive soaps and conditioners. It would be a frizzy mess, she thought, dipping her head under the water, but at least it would be clean, and she couldn't say the smell of the shampoo was unpleasant. It smelled fresh and clean, and although she had no idea why she would ascribe this quality, masculine.

Despite her intention to make the bath quick, she felt her movements slowing as she progressed through her normal routine. The sudden relief from persistent stinging, coupled with the relaxing effect of the warm water made her drowsy, eyelids drooping down low as she soaped her limbs, muscles feeling like limp noodles.

Running her fingers along her skin, she began to drift, recalling how so recently someone else had been doing the very same thing. Brendan's touch had been hesitant, no firmness beneath his hands. He had seemed unsure of how he should approach her, and the effect was less than desirable.

Danny's firm grip came to mind unbidden, his confident movements had guided her from place to place, stopped her from doing more harm to herself. His self assured behavior rankled sometimes, and she reacted accordingly, but it was only because she felt a little thrill of pleasure dart from her very center each time he did it. Her hands passed over her breasts, pausing as she slipped across the nipples before smoothing down her abdomen. The image of Danny's lips flashed into her mind, the details so precise she could imagine with more than a little certainty that they'd be firm yet soft against her skin.

Her eyes flew open at the thought, a faint shiver of arousal surprising her out of her drifting state. She jerked her wandering hand from the vee of her thighs, mouth forming a surprised little 'o.' There was just too much of him in here. The scent of the soap one she'd recognized immediately as the fresh notes hiding under the must of cigarettes. She shook her head and returned to scrubbing herself, determined to get out of the bathtub as speedily as possible. She didn't need any more time alone with herself, not at this juncture.

Mindy shivered as she padded through the bathroom door, towel clutched to her chest as she gingerly applied weight to her injured foot. Not so bad really. Her head swiveled around to take in her surroundings. She hadn't thought this through. It appeared that Danny lived with other people. People who could come bursting through the door at any time, but she was already slipping across the hardwood floor in search of her rescuer, so there didn't seem to be much of a point in scrambling back to the bathroom. "Danny!"

No answer. She continued to explore the space, finding it to be an odd amalgamation of tastes. She smiled to herself, instantly picking out a few of the additions that were undoubtedly Danny's. The framed picture of some paunchy old baseball player hanging on the wall over the sofa was definitely Danny's. The photograph had drawn her attention instantly, it's sepia tone and antique looking frame contrasting harshly with the almost neon green color of the walls and a piece of garish modern art hung on the opposite wall.

"You're dripping all over the hardwood."

She jumped at the sound of his voice, whirling around to face him, wincing as she came down a little heavy on her bad foot. "Why did old timey baseball players smoke cigars?"

The question caught him off guard, silencing the complaint on his lips. "Huh?"

Jerking her head toward the picture, she continued. "Cigars. It just seems weird." She turned back, only to find him casting a half-lidded gaze over her. He lingered on her bare shoulders, eyes eventually following the line of the towel down her body. She swallowed. "I mean, I guess baseball was easier back then, it didn't matter if your lung capacity was crap, or your teeth were yellow. It's probably why baseball players are so much hotter these days." She arched an eyebrow, hoping to cover her nervous rambling with a confident glance.

He narrowed his eyes at her line of questions, instantly on guard. So she knew about the cigarettes, no surprise really, her hand had been tucked into the pocket of his coat when they'd walked to his car.

"You should quit, Danny. It isn't good for you, and you look like an idiot doing something so unhealthy when you want to be a doctor."

He shrugged, not taking the bait. He couldn't explain it, but the last thing he wanted to do right now was argue with her. "Sometimes smart people do things that are bad for them."

She blushed, the reaction making her whole expression a little warmer, her eyes a little brighter. She had no response, merely standing like a statue in front of him, her lips parting as she let out a little sigh. His eyes were intense, darker than she'd remembered, something in their depths she didn't recognize. It made her dizzy. "How are you like this?"

He broke out of his trance, taking a full step back. "What?"

She readjusted her towel, freeing one hand to perform a sweeping gesture. "This. I feel like I've met three different Danny Castallanos, and I have no idea which one is real." The towel slipped an inch, and she struggled to right it. "Flirty Castellano, Grumpy Castellano, Caring Castellano, Jerky Castellano... Smoldery Castellano." Her voice croaked on the last one.

"That's more than three."

"Yeah, you're right, it's more like the seven dwarves than the three Danny's." She chuckled to herself at the thought. "Actually, the height's about right."

She'd unintentionally pushed a button, seeing his whole demeanor shift, his hands tucking in under his arms as he closed in on himself. "Ha ha, I get it, I'm short and I'm mean, and it's a wonder anyone puts up with me." He stepped forward, and she noticed for the first time that he had something tucked under his arm. "Here, put these on. Your dress is a disgusting mess."

She was taken aback, all if the mirth draining out of her, she reached forward to touch him. The heat of his arm was scalding, even through the fabric of his shirt. "Hey, it was a joke, a little joke, I'm just kidding. I'm here, right? So obviously there's something about you I'm inexplicably drawn to." She plucked the clothing from his outstretched hands.

The mirth was back, her lips curving into a gentle smile. In spite of himself, Danny felt the corners of his mouth betraying him, twitching upward to return the expression. He watched her walk away, couldn't help it really. Her damp hair had a natural wave, sweeping across the tops of her shoulders as she limped back to his bathroom. It was softer looking than he'd ever seen it before, and his fingers itched to draw it away from her neck as he laid gentle kisses there.

Grunting in frustration he headed to his bedroom, in search of something to wrap her ankle with.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: one last update before I go traipsing off to the middle of nowhere (no internet either :O) to spend two (possibly hellish) days in close quarters with my decidedly not sane family. I look forward to wandering around outside trying to find a signal to check my email. Please feel free to leave comments or reviews and tell me what you think. They are always encouraging and I find them really helpful. Love you all. Happy reading.**

Mindy followed the sounds of boxes being dragged across the floor, making her way through the house quietly, Danny's thick wool socks muffling the sound of her steps. When she discovered the source of the noise, she didn't give in to her first impulse, instead biting down on her bottom lip as she watched Danny from the open doorway.

He was on his knees, hunched over a cardboard box he'd dragged from underneath his bed, digging through it clearly in search of something. It was the first opportunity she'd ever had to look at him unobserved. Her breaths came shallowly in an attempt to be quiet as she slipped closer to him.

The first thing she noticed was the absence of his usual button up, instead a plain white tee stretched across his shoulders, short sleeves tight against his biceps as he collected and discarded various objects. The disorganized jumble in the box was a direct contrast to the room around him. Books were lined evenly on one shelf, his shoes in a neat row at the foot of his bed, the bed itself made neatly without a single wrinkle in the coverlet.

The thing that piqued her interest the most though was the evenly spaced row of pictures hung on his wall, pictures of things she never would have thought to frame. A row of stadium seats at some baseball park she couldn't place, a group of men in filthy coveralls standing along the edge of a pier presumably in New York, a row of cars sitting in front of a nondescript little diner. They weren't taken by someone with an eye for composition, but rather someone eagerly snapping shots of familiar places. It was strange to her how these pictures gave her a sense of who Danny was without providing her with one tangible piece of information.

Her eyes flitted from frame to frame, trying to find something to latch onto, a self satisfied smile spreading across her face as she spotted a little square photo on his bedside table. Forgetting her desire to remain unnoticed, she padded over to it, picking up the tiny frame to look more closely.

Danny's head shot up at the movement over his shoulder, springing to his feet. Within seconds the picture frame was plucked from her fingers. "What are you doing?"

She ignored the irritation in his question, in fact she ignored the question altogether. "That is the most adorable child I have ever seen, with the exception of my baby brother. Is that you?"

Setting the frame gently back in his place, Danny cast her a strange look. "What kind of narcissist has a framed photo of themself on their nightstand?"

Shrugging, she pushed past him her attention drawn to the bookshelf she'd been eyeing earlier. "It kind of looks like you, that's all." She drew her index finger along the line of books in front of her, the fingernail scraping along the various titles. She plucked one from it's spot, and began idly flipping through it, resigning herself to awkward silence. Clearly he didn't feel chatty.

"It's my kid brother."

She turned back to him, open book forgotten in her hand, genuinely pleased smile on her face. "Really? He's so much younger than you."

"That picture's a few years old, but yeah, he's a lot younger."

"Mine too."

"Huh?"

"Rishi, I was twelve when he was born, clearly an accident. Although my parents would never admit that." She laughed, turning back to the book. "What about yours? Accident or not?"

Danny shuffled uncomfortably, the urge to turn around and just walk out of the room pulling at his legs. He hadn't invited her in here, hadn't wanted her to contaminate his space with her presence, her touch. And now she was delving into his personal life. He crossed his arms, tucking his hands in, determined to change the subject. His traitorous brain had other ideas. "More like the last ditch attempt of two miserable people trying to make things work."

He sounded bitter, and Mindy nearly dropped the book, the muscles of her fingers twitching as she suppressed the urge to reach out to him. Surprised by the pain she saw on his face before the shutters slammed down, she placed the volume back on the shelf, laying it across the top of its former neighbors before she walked over to Danny's window.

It was dark, but she could tell his room looked out across an unexpected patch of tranquility in the city, a tiny park in the middle of all the hustle and bustle. "Danny, it's totally snowing."

There was awe in her voice as she watched the flakes float past the windowpane, caught in a beam of light. It was all Danny could do not to stride over to the window and look over her shoulder. Instead he snatched up the misplaced book and reshelved it before returning to the box beside his bed. "Hopefully it won't stick."

"Ok, grumpy, it wouldn't be the end of the world if it did stick, just a slight inconvenience. Ooh, maybe classes will be cancelled." The bed dipped with her weight as she plopped down on it, pulling the comforter's neatly tucked corners askew. She lay across it like a starfish, hands splayed open against the soft material. "Oh God, I miss big beds."

He popped up, ace bandage in one hand, the other awkwardly resting on his hip. "Well, don't get used to it. You're sleeping on the couch."

She ignored his clearly unpleasant mood, eyes drifting shut. "A good host always takes the couch, and the guest gets the bed." She wiggled, wallowing out a spot in the very middle of the mattress.

"Guess I'm lucky you're not a guest." Danny tossed the wrap on the bed beside her, hooking his hands beneath her knees. Her eyes flew open as he abruptly dragged her to the edge of the bed. Mindy wasn't always the best at reading signs. She hadn't known her junior high bestie was in love with her until Amelia had gone for a boob grab and a deep tongue kiss at winter formal (they'd been slow dancing, so Mindy did couldn't lay all the blame at Millie's feet), but she felt confident in the story she read on Danny's face, eyes darkening with desire as he nestled between her legs. The fingers of one hand pressed into the sensitive spot behind her knee, sending a surprising electrical impulse along the length of her body. The soft material of her borrowed pajamas was barely a barrier at all. He wanted her, in spite of the frown turning down the corners of his mouth.

Her lips parted in anticipation, tongue unconsciously darting out to wet her lower lip. The hand on her left knee released it's grip, trailing down the length of her leg. Her breath hitched, some part of her brain insisting that no one's touch carried that much heat. She ignored it, leaning forward in an open invitation.

Just as her lips parted to say something undoubtedly stupid, his fingers encircled her tender ankle, saving her from untried phrases of seduction. He pulled away from her, sliding off her borrowed sock dispassionately.

She felt heat creeping up her neck, a flush suffusing the delicate skin of her ears as his fingers gently probed the tendons of her foot. So maybe she hadn't read the signs right this time either. There was a line of tension running from his neck down to his shoulder, his lips pressed together in a thin line of displeasure. She let out a huge sigh, flopping dramatically back on the bed as he continued to examine her ankle.

"You twisted it pretty badly, if the swelling's any indication." He rolled it, testing her range of motion.

The movement elicited a sharp gasp from Mindy. "Ow! Come on, I have delicate ankles."

"Right, sorry. This is pretty bad, Mindy. You've been walking on it too much."

He was surprisingly gentle after that, crisscrossing the bandage over her foot and up around her ankle before fastening it with a metal clip. He squeezed it lightly and dropped it back to the mattress. "Too tight?"

She shook her head, looking up at him curiously. "You're not really gonna make me sleep on the couch, are you?"

* * *

><p>Danny looked down at her, not for the first time wondering what the hell he was doing. It certainly wouldn't have taken him a good ten minutes to wrap one of his roommates' ankles. His fingers wouldn't have lingered at the exposed skin, tracing along the smooth expanse as the pads of his thumbs had pressed gently into her sole.<p>

Why hadn't he leaned forward and grabbed her when her lips had parted? Her tongue had darted out so quickly, the pink tip brushing across the almost unnoticeable dimple in her bottom lip. He could still remember the feel of her lips against his, soft and full and eager as he drank her in. Why hadn't he slid his fingers through the surprisingly fluffy mass of hair flaring out around her when she'd moved closer?

There were reasons for his inaction. Logical reasons that he'd repeated to himself many times over the course of this semester. It wasn't appropriate for one, even though it wasn't forbidden, it could raise unwanted ethical questions, and even cost him a much needed recommendation letter from Garibaldi. He knew his caution was moored in practicality, but it was so hard to cling to when she was splayed across his bed, casting him what could only be described as bedroom eyes. Was her question an invitation to join her in the expansive bed?

No, no it wasn't. He'd read too much into his own desire, the inescapable pounding in his ears as blood whooshed in and out of his veins. She'd had a tiff with her current fling, and was joust stuck with him. As a matter of fact, she was probably merely trying to use her injury to softsoap him into giving up the bed altogether. He had to believe that.

"It'd probably be good for you, improve your posture."

"My posture?" There it was, the expected outrage. The thick atmosphere was shattered, and Danny for one was grateful. He'd gotten used to seeing her eyes widen in indignation, her cupid's bow mouth dropping open in shock. It was a lot easier to deal with than quietly shy glances through eyelashes.

Reaching forward, he yanked one pillow from behind her head. "You slump in your chair like a petulant middle schooler during Garibaldi's lectures. I bet you're a stomach sleeper. That's bad for your back."

He turned to walk toward the door, his parting comment intended to pull her after him and out of his bed. He smiled, seeing it worked like a charm as she scrambled to slide off the mattress. "I'll have you know, I have perfect posture. I was once contacted by the American Institute of Modeling just to display my talent for walking in impossibly high heels."

He snorted, walking confidently back into the living room, Mindy nipping at his heels. "There's no such thing."

"Like you would know."

"Touché."

* * *

><p>His lips were soft against her skin where they skimmed lightly over her collarbone, yet firm and insistent as he began pressing hungry little kisses into the flesh, trailing down between the valley of her breasts. She could feel his eyelashes fluttering against her heated skin each time he turned his attention to a new spot, always traveling in the same direction.<p>

Her hands reached for him of their own accord, fingers threading through the softly curling hair at his nape. She tugged him back up, craving the feel of his persistent lips against her own, heat curling in her belly as he dragged his body up hers.

Finally, her lips found his, kissing him eagerly as her fingers traveled to his back. She moaned into his mouth as her touch found the well defined lines of his shoulders, eventually tracing along his spine. Something shifted in her, the generalized feeling of pleasure suddenly sharpening into a urgent point.

His hips ground into hers, the sensation of being belly to belly with someone an intimate feeling that drove her wild. She couldn't get enough of his skin, the scalding heat that radiated through his body was like a balm against her own. She craved it, but he just wouldn't cooperate, pulling away unexpectedly, leaving only a hollowness she couldn't explain. She whimpered, suddenly feeling cheated. Was the universe conspiring against her? The pleasure she desperately wanted was so close, and yet so very far away.

Before she could take matters into her own hands and pounce on him like a wild animal, Danny dropped down in front of her, parting her knees gently. Her eyelids fluttered shut, eyes rolling back slightly as he left a hot trail of kisses on her inner thigh, making his way rather quickly to his destination.

His apparent eagerness to do the one thing she'd been most curious about only fueled the fire in her belly, muscles in her lower abdomen jumping in anticipation. A shiver rolled through her body as her nipples tightened, a pleasurable ache in the puckered skin. Sliding his hands beneath her, his fingers squeezed firmly at the rounded flesh of her ass, and he hauled her to him.

The moment his tongue touched her, slipping expertly between the folds to tease her clit, she reached the first crest of pleasure, gasping his name out in a hoarse declaration. He paused, pulling back to smirk up at her, a throaty chuckle tumbling out before returned to his task.

Had this been a few years, or even months ago, she would have believed that first crest to be the pinnacle of her pleasure, a peak she could float down gently from, fully satisfied with the experience. But since that first night with Danny, his fingers doing something his mouth seemed to be infinitely better at, she knew she could never be fully satisfied with half measures ever again.

As if reading her mind, he applied a gentle suction, drawing her clit into his mouth slightly as he dipped two fingers inside of her. She threaded her fingers in and out of his curls, fingernails scraping lightly against his scalp as she guided the motion of his mouth. Another wave crashed over her, and she gasped, feeling the muscles inside of her clench around his fingers. She rolled her hips toward him, silently begging for more.

This time he released the grip on her ass completely, laying his free hand flat across her abdomen to hold her down, shifting slightly to rest on her pubic bone as the fingers inside of her curled at a forty five degree angle. He pressed firmly, eliciting a helpless moan from her. It was different, bigger somehow than the times before. She felt her hands dropping to the bed to clutch at the sheet, desperately searching for something to hold onto.

She was too inexperienced to know if this was how it was supposed to be, or if this was the fabled multiple orgasm so often whispered about at girl's nights, but she felt the third volcanic eruption building inside. Her chest heaving, she prepared herself for the rolling pleasure.

* * *

><p>Her eyes flew open, the sheen of sweat cool against her brow, a lazily turning ceiling fan the only thing filling her vision, dark shadows muffling the shapes around her. No no no. She almost wanted to sob, a strangled little sound escaping her lips. She glanced down at her foot, propped awkwardly on the arm of the sofa, a throw pillow tucked under her knee.<p>

It had been a stupid dream. This time the tears of frustration did squeeze out from between her eyelids, an uncomfortable pulsing sensation between her legs the only reminder of the erotic fantasy she'd just had. Why the hell had she read those books? Hell, doctor's couldn't even decide if the g-spot was real, and here was was fantasizing about it. She clamped her legs together. It only made it worse. What the hell? It was _so _unfair. She'd been so close, and honestly if she'd just been able to finish in her dream she really wouldn't have been so upset.

Inspiration struck, and she turned her head back into the pillow, squeezing her eyes shut. She willed herself to fall back asleep. Of course, it didn't work. Her heart was still racing from her dream. Little spikes of adrenalin fluttered in her chest now and again, shivers of phantom pleasure darting between her legs.

Opening one eye, she looked toward Danny's bedroom. There was no sign of him, no tell tale light underneath his door, or noisy shuffling. He was probably sound asleep, dead to the world, out like a light.

The fingers of her right hand drifted to the waistband of the pajamas, plucking hesitantly at the elastic as she contemplated what she was about to do. There was something strangely alluring about the possibility of being caught. Making a snap decision, she quickly slipped beneath the material before she lost her nerve. She'd tried this before, unsure of what her goal had been, she'd totally underestimated the amount of forethought needed to pleasure herself in that way. giving up after a short time.

But this was different, a part of her begging to be touched, aching to be released. The dream priming her for the main event. She couldn't just let it drift off into the night. She dipped one finger between the slick folds, eyes widening at the unexpected dampness she felt there. It had certainly never been like _that _before.

She closed her eyes, sweeping two fingers across the swollen nub she felt her breath quicken, the muscles in her stomach jump. She tried to recall the motions Danny had employed, both in her dream and reality. Yes, this was the elusive feeling she'd been after. Dropping her free hand to the side, she clutched at the edge of the leather cushion, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth as she concentrated. It took a surprisingly short amount of time for her reach that quivering point of no return, fingers rhythmically sweeping across the sensitive bundle of nerves (more than 8,000 if she remembered correctly), slipping off into the abyss almost unexpectedly, her whole body convulsing for a second, an accidental moan escaping her lips as she arched.

This time her eyes genuinely drifted shut, a dreamy smile on her lips as she floated like a feather back down to earth. It didn't seem possible to feel this relaxed yet rejuvenated. She was pleased to discover that she could do this for herself, that the fate of her sexual pleasure didn't lie in one man's hands, literally _or _figuratively.

She withdrew her fingers, adjusting the waistband to a place of comfort once again, an unconscious smile playing at her lips. She had just tucked the blanket underneath her chin and resettled her foot against the arm of the chair when she heard the unmistakable sound of hinges creaking.

Danny stepped out into the living room, his pajama bottoms riding low on his hips, his tee shirt discarded some time in the past couple hours. Mindy's mouth felt dry as she stared at him in the half light, her heart picking up speed as he padded over to the couch. She quickly shut her eyes and affected a faint snore.

Peering down at her, he reached out and poked her in the shoulder. "Stop pretending. I know you're awake. I heard a noise out here. Was it you? Does your foot hurt?"

She was paralyzed, embarrassment burning her skin, she tucked her chin under the cover, hoping to hide the things that were no doubt written in her face. It felt futile, her recent pleasure seemed to be written on every exposed patch of skin.

He took her silent treatment differently than she expected. "Fine. I get it. The couch is uncomfortable. You can have the bed, ok? Get up."

She shook her head. "No, no, the couch is fine."

"Don't be passive aggressive, Mindy, it's unattractive."

"Fine!" She struggled to get herself upright, sliding around on the leather seat cushions. Danny reached down and grabbed her hand, his touch like fire sending another flush coursing through her as he hauled her to her feet. She didn't exactly have great balance to begin with, but she was decidedly off kilter tonight, and found herself clinging to Danny's bare shoulders for support. It was far too reminiscent of her dream and she released him quickly, as though he were on fire.

She slipped quietly into his room, only glancing back one time to watch him as he spread the blanket on the couch once more, his naked back to her as he shook out the material. The rest of the semester was going to be hell if images like this were permanently burned into her retina. Sighing, she shut the door behind her, slipping into his waiting bed. She tried not to think about where the heat still lingering in his sheets came from, burying her nose in the pillow that smelled like his after shave. Yes, it was going to be sheer hell.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: thanks so much to everyone who has been reading and commenting. I do feel like the pacing of this story is a bit off, it'll probably speed up a bit after this chapter. Please feel free to let me know what you think.**

Snow. It was all he could see. The cars parked along his street merely lumps under a far reaching white blanket. Danny leaned closer to the window pane, a cold cushion of air emanating from its surface. It was a stark contrast to the steaming cup of hot coffee cradled in his hands. Not only were the drifts covering the cars and creeping up to the windows on his house, but it was still coming down, wind whipping it madly in little whirlwinds. He let out a long breath, fogging the glass.

The confluence of events that had led to this point were borderline fantastical. A string of coincidental happenings that Danny would have found suspect if there were any way at all he could blame the weather on an actual human being.

Andrew and Peter had begged him to tag along on their trip to upstate New York. The pair had taken off early Friday afternoon, skipping classes and piling into Peter's tiny hatchback. Danny had felt a tiny twinge of regret as he'd shaken his head, walking out the door on the way to Garibaldi's office, a stack of papers shoved into his messenger bag.

The memory of Mindy's eyes flashing angrily at him as she stormed out of his office was another thing that kept circling around. And now she was here, snowed in with him. Those very same eyes had sparkled with anticipation as she'd made the prediction that classes would be cancelled.

Danny had inwardly scoffed at her hopeful tone, knowing the sheer amount of snow required to bring things to a standstill was near impossible this time of year. This wasn't some normally balmy city in the south, where a ten minute flurry could shut down civilization. This was New York, it would take several hours of a relentless blizzard to ruin anyone's day.

He brought his coffee to his lips, suppressing a smile he couldn't find the source of, the hot liquid pooling in his stomach, it's heat radiating outward. He tucked his free hand into the pocket of his hoodie, a safeguard against the cold creeping to the house.

He prayed the power wouldn't go out. He could only imagine the ceaseless whining that would come from a cold Mindy. If her ankle weren't injured, he would be tempted to bundle up and trudge back to campus with her in tow. Just to get her back to her dorm, and well out of his hair. Unfortunately that wasn't even a remote possibility.

He turned away from the window, returning his attention to the mess scattered across the kitchen table. There were textbooks and loose papers sitting in crooked piles across it's surface. Being snowed in by himself for a couple days wouldn't have been a problem. He'd never admit it to a soul, but he was beginning to fall behind in a few of his classes, shouldering a little too much responsibility in his senior year. He told himself this was an opportunity disguised as an inconvenience, that Mindy's presence wouldn't change that.

But already he felt himself pulled away from the work in front of him, his feet taking him in the direction of his closed bedroom door. He knew she wouldn't be awake this early. Seeing her at eight a.m. every Saturday for several weeks had clued him in to the fact that she very much was not a morning person. He smiled, recalling the way she desperately clutched her coffee as she walked through the door in the nick of time. It was an image he was greeted with nearly every week.

When he reached the bedroom door, he wasn't entirely sure what his intention had been in the first place. It wasn't like he was prepared to knock on it, wake the colorful little dynamo sleeping peacefully snuggled into his blankets. She would inevitably jump out of bed, demand coffee, and then proceed to gloat about her correct weather predictions, all the while not caring that it meant she was trapped here.

So he stood inches away from his bedroom door, awkwardly clutching his cup of coffee and staring at the oak paneling as if it were an ancient text he needed to decipher. He wasn't entirely sure what he wanted to do, settling instead for turning his head slightly to listen. He heard the springs of his bed squeak slightly as she shifted, probably tossing and turning.

She seemed to be a fitful sleeper, if the previous night was any indication. Although, now that he thought about it, last night had been strange. The sounds pulling him from slumber hadn't quite been what he would have associated with discomfort or even a bad dream. Instead the little whimpers had been vaguely familiar to him, triggering his curiosity.

And she definitely had not been sleeping when he'd come out into the living room, her fake snores something directly out of a saturday morning cartoon. She'd been jumpy too, when he'd helped her off the couch, not looking directly at him, snatching her delicate hands away from his skin the moment they lighted there.

Danny's eyes widened when his brain finally added his observations together, recalling the place he'd heard the sounds before. If that were the case… No, surely not. He reigned in his wild speculation, tabling the egomaniacal impulse to assume she'd been thinking of him and doing… that.

He shook his head, intending to turn away from the door, but his feet were like cinder blocks, heavy and immovable. He could feel the tingle of warmth along his skin, the heat radiating out as blood rushed to the surface, every sensation suddenly magnified tenfold. His heartbeat quickened, and he realized that he was getting turned on by the scene being carefully constructed in his mind.

He looked down at his fingers, already lightly tracing the doorknob. God, this was awful. It had to be because he'd already labeled her 'off limits.' Some juvenile compartment in his brain rebelling at the very idea. He jumped back guiltily as the doorknob began to turn of it's own volition under his fingers.

The door swung open and a sleepy eyed Mindy was standing in front of him. A far off little voice in his head noted how she seemed to be much shorter than he remembered, almost tiny. She looked vulnerable tucked into his sweats, face free of makeup, hair wild and unkempt.

She didn't stay that way for long, her nose detecting the unmistakable aroma of coffee. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she broke into a wide smile. "Ooh, coffee, thank god."

Danny stood in stunned silence as she grabbed the mug from his hand, her eyes drifting shut to savor the aroma. Her assumption gave him a valid reason to be creeping outside the bedroom door, so he merely nodded.

Mug at her lips, she took a long sip. The pleasant expression on her face instantly disappeared, her lips twisting into a grimace. "Ick. Black? Gross. Who drinks coffee like this?"

Danny snatched his mug back, sloshing the slightly tepid coffee on his hand. "Real men drink their coffee black."

"Do I look like a man to you?"

"What?! No. I didn't.. That' s not.." He sighed, giving up. "How do you like your coffee?"

"Two sugars, one cream, maybe a little cinnamon, or whatever they put in pumpkin spice lattes." She pushed past him toward the kitchen. "Ooh, maybe some caramel syrup if you have any." Her last suggestion was slightly muffled, her head already stuck in one of his cabinets, going through the dry goods arranged neatly in rows. She popped back out. "There's nothing good in here, except a few boxes of really old looking sugar cubes. Let's just go to Starbucks."

"That's not gonna happen."

"Oh, I see. You're one of those people who thinks Starbucks is like not as good as some local coffee shop. That's fine, just take me there."

He shook his head. "Nope, that's not gonna happen either."

She stared at him, perplexed. Rather than explain, he guided her to the kitchen sink, one hand resting gently at the small of her back. He pointed to the little window over the fixture. "No one's going out in that."

He got the expected reaction, confusion immediately washing away as unfiltered pleasure suffused her features. He could have just told her about the snow, but he'd instinctively known how much better this reaction would be.

"I was right!"

She leaned forward, placing one hand on his forearm to balance herself as she got up on her tiptoes. The slippery material of her socks lost traction almost immediately against the kitchen tiles, and Danny caught her. "You are such a klutz." The words came out on an unexpectedly soft breath, the warmth of her in his arms wreaking havoc on Danny's composure.

She slowly disentangled herself from his arms, brushing the hair from her face before she glared at him. "I'm quite graceful actually. You seem to bring the worst out in me."

"I doubt that."

She pulled away from him, opening and closing cabinets on a mission. Reaching the last one, she smiled, snatching up a clean coffee cup. "I'll drink your disgusting old man coffee, with expired sugar cubes, but it's under extreme protest."

She poured herself a steaming mug, not taking her eyes off of him as she plopped three hard cubes into the liquid. She turned slowly away, holding the coffee cup in front of her, one pinkie out as she gingerly walked across the hardwood. Squaring her shoulders she made her way to the kitchen table. "I'm graceful as hell, and I have perfect posture."

Danny followed close behind, snatching papers up off the table as she found a place for her mug. She set it down rather heavily, coffee splashing out into the empty spot where his work had been. He rolled his eyes. "You're practically a ballerina."

She ignored his sarcasm, turning her attention to the books scattered in front of her. There was an array of science volumes mixed in with the odd piece of literature. She shuffled through them, picking up various papers and discarding them as she went along. Danny felt the muscles in his back begin to tense up. There was a method to his disorganized jumble, and she was messing it all up. "Alright, that's enough."

Again, she ignored him. Her fingers catching the one paper he'd forgotten about. Shit. He hoped she would toss it along with the others, but her movements slowed as she read the cover page. "Danny, this is my paper, the one I shoved back in my bag before leaving your office."

"I know."

It wasn't the response she'd been looking for. "And? Why do you have it?" Her eyes narrowed as she peered at him. "Did you go through my bag? How dare you invade my privacy!"

He pulled out a chair, adjacent to her side of the table. "Relax ok, I didn't go through your bag. You practically threw it on the floor in the foyer, and all your stuff just spilled out. It just happened to be lying out in the open."

"Mmmhmmm." She was still dubious, arms crossed in front of her as she eyed him.

"And, our earlier conversation got me to thinking…" He trailed off, suddenly aware that this was what eating crow felt like. The muscles in his jaw worked as she tried to formulate a way to admit he was wrong. He pushed past his desire to have the upper hand and continued. "Maybe, just maybe, there were some personal feelings that got in the way of me grading your paper. I had to reread it to be sure."

"Oh?" She already sounded smug, one eyebrow raised slightly, an evil little grin pulling at her cheeks.

"Yes. And you were right, it's not a C paper."

"A-ha!" She pointed at him, leaning so far out of her chair that she nearly tumbled into the floor, but she caught herself, still waving her finger in his face. "I knew it!"

He was already shaking his head. "It's not an A paper either, Mindy. It's a solid B, ok?"

Sitting back in her chair, a little deflated, she picked up the paper and looked at it intently. "A solid B?" She closed her eyes, the thoughtful expression on her face disappearing, amusement taking it's place. She let out an inelegant snort, the sound quickly morphing into helpless giggles. "A solid B!"

She started gasping between laughs, and it left Danny more than a little alarmed. He was clueless as to the cause of her amusement. He began to wonder if maybe he should have checked for a concussion the night before.

She dropped the paper, wiping tears of mirth from the corners of her eyes. "A solid B. Danny, that's what the lady at Victoria Secret called my bra size when I tried to argue with her. Only in that case I wanted a C."

Instinctively his eyes dropped to her chest, resting there for only a second before he reminded himself not to stare. She was crazy, ready to fly off the handle one minute, then gasping with laughter the next. He had no response for her latest revelation, feeling that perhaps anything he said would be the beginning of yet another uncomfortable conversation. He just waited for her to calm down, listening to her chuckles as she leaned back against the chair, taking deep breaths.

"I can take a B, but you bet your ass the next paper will be an A."

"I won't be grading your next paper, Mindy." Danny kicked himself. This was not a conversation he wanted to have right now, especially not while he was trapped with her in such close quarters.

"What? Why not?"

"Because you were right. I let whatever personal relationship I had with you get in the way of behaving ethically." He swallowed, unsure of how she would react to his next declaration. "And I don't think we should be… doing whatever it is we're doing." He gestured awkwardly between them.

"What are we doing?"

"You know, this… there's a tension."

"What tension?" Her tone of absolute innocence grated on his nerves.

"Don't play coy, I saw the way you looked at me last night. It was borderline lecherous."

She stood up abruptly, the ladder-back chair flying out behind her. Hands on the table, she leaned down to issue her rebuttal face to face. "I did no such thing. You're the one checking out my ass every time I walk away." She flipped her hair dramatically over one shoulder.

Her face was close to his, full lips parted and waiting only inches from his. She looked at him through her eyelashes, daring him to contradict her. Danny swallowed the lump in his throat, anticipation fluttering in his chest as he waited for her to make a move.

It only took a second, the air thick around them as they both stopped breathing. Mindy was the first to break, reaching forward to pull his face to hers. Her hands caressed the planes of his face, the tickle of stubble under her fingers sending a pleasant shiver through her. The kiss seemed desperate, both of them panting harshly as their lips locked. Danny rose from the chair, pulling her tightly to him, one hand slipping up beneath the hoodie she wore.

He swallowed the little moan that escaped her when his hand palmed her breast, her nipple puckering instantly under his touch. That was the final straw for Mindy. She pulled back, glancing around her quickly before turning to the table and dramatically sweeping the majority of its contents onto the floor.

The action broke Danny out of his lust filled daze, blinking as he surveyed the mess around them. He stepped back from her, hands up in front of him as though he needed to protect himself. "This is not happening."

"What?" The glassy look in her eyes slowly disappeared, the harsh staccato of her breathing slowing as she registered his meaning.

Danny blocked out the painful flash of embarrassment that so briefly colored Mindy's features, stifling the urge to reach out and pull her back into his embrace. He steeled himself, settling his hands on his hips. "Look, you obviously want me, but that can't happen, so you just need to get over this fetish you have for unattainable men."

He knew it was a mistake the moment the words left his mouth, but it was impossible to call them back. The sting of her palm against his cheek came as no surprise, the force of her slap snapping his head to the right. Whatever contrition he felt was overpowered by his pride, a flush of anger overheating him.

She was trembling with anger as she spun away from him, dashing back to his bedroom, her injured ankle barely hampering her movement. He followed close behind, afraid that she would perhaps take her anger out on his possessions.

When he popped into the room at first he didn't see her, confusion outweighing his initial burst of irritation. Grunts coming from the direction of his closet drew his attention, his eyes landing on the pleasant curve of her ass as she bent over, the ass he'd so recently been clutching at desperately. He sighed.

She was digging through the things in the bottom of his closet, tugging angrily at something he couldn't see. The mystery item pulled free, and she stumbled back, surprisingly righting herself almost immediately. She tugged on a pair of his boots, yanking roughly at the laces as she tied them up.

"What are you doing?"

She didn't answer him, pointedly ignoring is very presence. Boots laced up, she turned back to his closet, pulling his winter coat from the back. Threading her arms through it, she shoved past Danny, the heavy sound of his boots thumping as she crossed the threshold.

Danny followed her. "You're not going outside."

Lips pursed in a tight line of displeasure, she snatched her bag off the floor. One hand on the doorknob she stopped, and Danny let out a breath of relief, thinking perhaps she'd come to her senses. Maybe she could see that this was the right thing to do. It wasn't just about their respective positions in the academic hierarchy. Anything between them was doomed from the outset. Danny was finished at the end of the semester. He'd soon be throwing himself into med school, and wouldn't have time for anyone, let alone someone who seemed to thrive on being the center of attention. He could already feel the pull of her gravitational force, and he had to stop it before he got totally sucked in.

When she turned back around, her eyes didn't light on him, instead they were focused on the floor behind him.

"Mindy?"

Still no response, she blew past him, snatching her paper up off the floor and crumpling it in her fist as she shoved it into her bag. Turning back to the door, she swung it open and disappeared into the swirling snow.

"Mindy!"

* * *

><p>Mindy made it about twenty feet before she regretted her decision to angrily storm out. She was adrift in a sea of white, snow already up to her knees as she struggled to make her way to the street.<p>

Her cheeks stung as the wind slapped at her, the burn intensified by the ice crystals as they buffeted her skin. The flannel of Danny's pajamas was almost instantly soaked through, sticking to her skin as she waded through the drifts.

Tucking her hands underneath her arms, she leaned forward, pushing against the force of the gale. Damn if it wasn't cold as hell, the shearling lining of Danny's coat doing little to keep her warm. She tugged the zipper up further before shoving her hands back into the pockets. Sure, she had no idea which direction she was actually headed, or even what direction she should be walking in, but she couldn't go back to Danny.

Anger had seemed to be primary emotion fueling her dramatic exit, but it had only been a thin cover for the wounded feeling his words had left. Her self confidence was real, and she always carried herself with pride, but his comment had poked at old insecurities. She hated how easily he'd cut her down to size, his arrogance deflating her completely.

She could still feel the flush of embarrassment making her ears hot, the queasy feeling in her stomach when he'd mentioned her apparent ogling. Her own accusation had been a shot in the dark, something she'd known other guys had done, but that she'd never actually caught Danny doing. His apparent physical attraction to her made the fact that he didn't want her all the more upsetting.

The idea that this magnetic pull she felt was unrequited sent her hurtling straight back to high school, the mortification she'd felt when the boy she'd like had called her fat and laughed in her face. So, she'd lashed out physically, because she'd had nothing else.

She blinked away angry tears, clearing her blurry vision to look around her. Shit, everything was white, the snow falling more heavily than she'd ever experienced. How was it possible to get lost in less than five minutes? She threw her hands out in front of her, searching for something to latch onto. Her fingers found the cold metal surface of a car hood, calibrating her sense of direction somewhat.

The biggest flaw in her plan to walk back to campus soon became clear. She had no idea where Danny lived in relation to the university. Finding the street had been a useless endeavor.

Before she could turn around and march back to Danny in defeat, someone plowed into her from behind, arms wrapping around her waist as they both plunged into a snow drift.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: back finally! This chapter walked all over me and I ended up cutting several paragraphs of exposition and I'm still not happy with it, but at a certain point you just have to move on, and I've been informed that I'm overly critical sooooo... Here it is, please feel free to comment, it makes my day and I'm not ashamed to admit it. **

The storm door slammed in Danny's face, a sick feeling clenching in the pit of his stomach as Mindy disappeared from his view, a wall of white enveloping her. He hastily slipped on a pair of house shoes and dashed after her, but the feeling didn't abate, darting from his stomach to his throat, bile rising there unexpectedly. His melodramatic brain made horrendous comparisons to The Little Match Girl as he followed the path she'd made, commanding his legs to pick up speed.

When he finally spotted her, she was at the street, body angled to the right as she began to turn. There was nothing much in that direction, just the entrance to the tiny park adjacent to his house. If she wandered through the gate he'd never catch up with her. He broke into an awkward run, stepping high as he maneuvered himself through the snow. He called out her name, but the wind was blowing hard, a whooshing noise blocking out the sound in his own ears, leaving little hope that she'd heard at all. He'd underestimated his velocity, the snow providing no traction as he tried to stop. His inertia dumped them both into the biggest snow bank he'd ever seen, their bodies making a huge dent in the mass.

She struggled out of their prison before he did, but she was going in the wrong direction, back to the street, probably still determined to walk all the way back to campus. Danny's jaw worked in irritation and came up behind her, spinning her around roughly before hauling her up over his shoulder.

She squirmed as he carried her like a sack of potatoes, letting out little grunts of exertion with each step, the adrenaline pumping through his veins the only thing making this heroic endeavor possible.

Reaching the door, he jerked it open with one free hand, his other arm banded none too gently across the back of Mindy's legs.

When he finally put her down his eyes darkened, boring into her with a blistering heat. She took a step back, her indignation evaporating like water flicked on a hot pan. Pleased with the reprieve from her typical commentary, Danny tugged her away from the doorway, ignoring the snow falling from her boots and puddling on the hardwood floor as it melted. The glass panes rattled in their housings as he slammed the door shut. "Are you insane?"

"Of course not! I was about to turn around, and then you bowled me over like a… like a… God, I can't even think of a good simile with you staring at me like that. There's this bulging vein at your temple, and you look like you're about to blow a gasket."

So much for a reprieve. He whirled away from her, looking at the floor as he took deep breaths. Whether he was pawing at her like a lust filled frat boy or arguing with her about whether or not it was fair to grade on a curve, there were no half measures with her. This little tableu was just another example of that. She sent his blood pressure skyrocketing and his adrenal glands into overdrive. If he had to deal with this much longer, he'd start going gray.

He dusted the resulting snow from his shoulders, running the fingers of one hand through his hair in frustration. There was something pulling at him, a tugging beneath his rib cage as he looked at her. She was sopping wet in his doorway, wide eyed as she watched him. The tugging got worse, affecting his ability to breathe, a matching sensation zipping through his fingertips. Tugging toward her.

Tamping down the urge to give in to this strange feeling, he shut his mouth and dropped his hands to his side. Without a word he turned on his heel and marched toward the bathroom, hoping she would just have good sense for once and follow him without question. She did.

"How do you not have a hair dryer?"

He paused to give her a withering look before turning back to the mirror, wiping the remaining moisture off his neck with the hand towel. Evidently he didn't feel as if her question merited a response.

Mindy continued to pat at her hair with the threadbare towel. Typical, how on earth did men even find towels like this? Were there pre-distressed man-towels on sale at Spencer's? She snuck a glance at Danny in the mirror, noting that his short hair wasn't even damp any more. The fringe at his ears curled slightly as it had dried. He had a point. "Sorry, I just... maybe as a courtesy to the many women you kidnap and hold hostage you should keep one on hand. Just a thought."

Danny carefully hung his own towel on the peg and walked silently from the bathroom. Mindy rolled her eyes. What a drama queen, couldn't even take a little joke. She shut the door behind him and shucked off her wet clothes. Peering at herself in the mirror, she took a quick catalogue of her appearance. Her hair was a disaster beyond contemplating, having suffered the abuse of less than ideal hair products and undue exposure to moisture. It was a wavy mess.

She twirled a lock around one finger, pulling at it tightly in the hopes that she could reconstitute some kind of shape. As soon as she released it, it sprung back to her shoulder in a fluffy poof. Whatever, it wasn't as if there was anyone here to impress. Her eyes traveled across her body, doing the typical mirror gazing normally reserved for her post shower inspection. She smoothed her hands over her hips, turning slightly to pose, a little smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

Her fingers dropped to her hip, tracing along a barely noticeable dark mark, the bruise faintly spreading along her skin. Danny had left it there when he hauled her up, tossing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She'd kicked at the air, trying to wiggle her way to freedom, but he'd only tightened the arm banding across the back of her legs as he marched laboriously back to the house.

She scoffed. That certainly wasn't how she'd pictured the first time a man carried her across a threshold. Her future fire-fighter husband was supposed to cradle her in his impossibly muscular arms as though she weighed nothing, maybe playfully jostling her as they entered their mansion for the first time as man and wife. She'd certainly never imagined someone huffing like he'd just run a marathon as she hung upside down behind his back staring at his ass (it wasn't a bad view, but come on man).

She'd honestly been surprised he'd managed it at all. For a shorter man, there certainly seemed to be a lot of tightly coiled energy packed into is smaller frame. Not that she found his stature displeasing, in fact she'd begun to think they could fit together quite nicely. If he would just stop being a dick.

She shivered as an unexpected draft wafted under the door, setting gooseflesh chasing across her skin. That was another little rom com induced fantasy Danny seemed intent on ruining for her. Snowed in. It was something she'd thought about in the past, a golden little day dream she'd indulged in when bored. She'd be up in the mountains with a hunky ski instructor, trapped in a one room cabin with only the heat of their bodies and a sensually crackling fire to keep them alive… something like that. Definitely not this. The most she could hope for tonight was Danny glaring at her from across the room while they studied their respective anatomy textbooks in silence.

Her hands drifted to the curve of her belly, stomach rumbling under her fingertips. God, she was starving too. Her recent perusal of Danny's pantry had confirmed her worst suspicions. He had well stocked shelves of healthy fibrous staples, and not a single sugar-coated-anything in sight. She was certain she'd starve to death if she was trapped here more than one day, her only sustenance shredded wheat and dried out sugar cubes.

She picked up the towel again, patting at her damp skin, collecting that last bit of moisture clinging to her. Her hands stilled at her breasts, the towel falling forgotten to the floor. She palmed herself, nipples hard against the soft skin of her hands. She felt the usual dissatisfaction with their smaller than average mass, only this time it was tempered by the tickling little growl she'd felt against her lips when Danny's hand had lit here. She involuntarily compared the feel of her own soft fingers to that of Danny's coarser ones. His hands were surprisingly large, completely enveloping her breast as he'd squeezed gently at it. The memory sent an electric current running from her nipple to the apex of her thighs, the two unexpectedly connected.

God, why had that idiot ruined everything? She dropped her hands and retrieved the towel from the floor.

* * *

><p>He grunted, cracking an egg with more force than necessary against the metal mixing bowl, gaining a small satisfaction as the yolk busted against the bottom of the dish. He snatched up the metal whisk and went to work, trying like hell to take his mind of the undoubtedly naked woman dallying in his bathroom… for the second time in less than twenty-four hours.<p>

Danny had been giving her the silent treatment since he'd dragged her back across the threshold. Not that she'd noticed. Not that she paused with her little jokes. Not that she seemed to need to hear the sound of anything but her own voice.

She could have died, and she was quipping about hairdryers and kidnappings. Danny flicked his wrist, and the whisk in his hand made a singing noise against the edge of the mixing bowl. These eggs would have more air whipped into them than the fluffiest soufflé he'd ever made.

He stopped, leaning against the counter as the blinding rush of panic-stricken endorphins began to ebb. It had carried him back to the house, Mindy in tow, but now it was abating and with it's absence a return to clear thinking. So, she probably wouldn't have died. He didn't really know why his mind automatically jumped to things like that, or why it was so obvious now that she probably hadn't been headed down the street, but rather she'd mostly likely been turning back toward the house.

He winced as the realization settled over him. Carefully pouring the beaten eggs into the waiting skillet, he implemented a swirling motion, coating the bottom of the pan. The proteins immediately began to denature, transparent liquid becoming opaque. Cooking was calming for him, it set him back on an even plane while his mind tried to sift through the mess he'd made.

He dragged a fork through the eggs, using the tines to fluff them up into a perfect scramble before depositing them on a plate next to two slices of whole wheat toast. Cracking two new eggs, he began the whole process again. He hadn't bothered to ask Mindy how she liked hers. No one had ever taken issue with his scramble, so she undoubtedly would, but he didn't really care all that much. She wouldn't starve.

A faint noise coming from the direction of his bedroom caught his attention, his ears pricking as he paused a the stove. So, she was in his room again, hands probably all over everything he owned. He tensed up, shoulders tightening as he imagined his privacy in shambles. He rolled his neck, telling himself she was just a naturally inquisitive person. It wasn't like he'd never noticed her curiosity. She was always the first person to pipe up with surprisingly insightful questions in class. Everything seemed to be a puzzle she would go any length to solve.

That's when it clicked for him. A realization that made his heart sink, chest filled with disappointment. Her persistence, her curiosity, it was merely because he was an enigma to her. His closemouthed nature only adding to the mystery. Her preoccupation would wane once she'd gleaned enough information. It made perfect sense.

The thought set his teeth on edge, breaking up the congealing eggs in the pan with more force than necessary. He could see now that it meant nothing, and he couldn't trust the release of tightly coiled tension each time she pried something loose. It was just a part of whatever little game she played. He wanted to hate it, but he was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Moths who flew into flames didn't survive.

He felt more sure than ever that his decision to halt things was correct. She was bound to lose interest in him when she finally unravelled the mystery of the grouchy TA. It was better that it not devolve into a messy relationship in the mean time.

He turned to the second plate, depositing the result of his efforts beside another two slices of toast before taking both dishes to the kitchen table. No need to clear the surface, Mindy had done that for him already, the result of her efforts still scattered across the floor. In spite of the warring motivations inside of him, Danny's expression softened, an amused little grin pulling at him before he turned back to the kitchen.

* * *

><p>"Oh, my god, these are so good." She was talking with her mouth full, fork spearing another helping of eggs before she could finish the first bite. "I thought you were gonna make me eat shredded wheat until the snow melted. I can't believe you can cook."<p>

Danny looked at her from across the table, sitting as far as possible from her. It was a pointless endeavor, the little round surface barely putting three feet between them. "It's only scrambled eggs." Remembering his epiphany, he consciously added, "I'm Italian, I like to cook."

She shrugged, focusing on the plate in front her. Picking up her toast, she reached for the strawberry jam he'd set in front of her plate and spooned out a huge gelatinous glob onto one slice, the already melted butter sliding around under it. Taking a bite, she spoke with her mouth full. "I hate cooking."

"What? Why?"

A dab of jam smeared across her lower lip and she flicked it away with her tongue. "I don't know, really, it's just so stressful to me. Nothing I make ever looks like the pictures on Pinterest."

"On what?"

Swallowing a large gulp of orange juice, she shook her head. "Nevermind. I wouldn't even know how to begin to explain Pinterest to a man that still has a flip phone." She forked the last of her scrambled eggs and popped them into her mouth, savoring the buttery flavor, a little satisfied 'mmm' eking out.

Danny's own plate was basically untouched, his attention being severely distracted by the person sitting across from him. She took such pleasure in the food in front of her, really using all of her senses to appreciate everything. He'd never seen anyone sit down and take such care to enjoy each little bite.

And she wasn't quiet about her enjoyment either, throwing around compliments freely, making almost obscene noises when she found something particularly tasty. He wondered if she was like this with everything, all five senses fully engaged at every moment. He watched as she sat back in his chair, patting her stomach appreciatively. Her fingers dragged across the distorted face of Bruce Springsteen. He hadn't see that particular tee in a while.

It never failed to strike a strange chord within him each time his eyes took in her choice of clothing. That shirt had been hanging at the back of his closet. She must have gone through nearly everything before tugging it off the hanger, pairing it with an old pair of college sweats. The ease with which she floated through his private space unsettled him. He wondered if she'd seen the lone dress tucked between his chinos. Probably not, she definitely would have said something.

Her hands were suddenly waving in front of her. "Hello, earth to Danny?"

"Huh?"

"I said, maybe you can teach me to cook something." She peered at him, a tentatively sweet smile playing across her lips.

For the first time since he'd known her she seemed utterly guileless. The open expression made him feel exposed, as though her willingness to be genuine with him were triggering a similar response. "I, uh, maybe… teaching's not really my thing."

She tilted her head thoughtfully. "It's not? Then why are you doing the T.A. thing?"

He answered before thinking. "I kind of have to, my tuition gets waived if I do the job, and Garibaldi's not a bad guy."

"Your tuition?"

This was the perfect opportunity to spill his guts to her, lament about his less than ideal childhood. It's what she'd been digging for wasn't it? Maybe if she got what she was looking for she'd lay off a little. "Yeah, not everyone has mommy and daddy to pay for tuition and books."

She frowned, and he caught the apology forming on his lips. What was there to apologize for? He dug into his eggs, looking down while she thought about his words. There were two possible reactions here. She could get indignant about him basically calling her spoiled, or she would slather on the sympathy for poor little Danny Castellano and his broken home.

"Puh-lease, you didn't spring from the earth fully formed. You have parents."

"Parent. Singular."

"Oh." The single syllable landed softly on his ears. There it was. Danny regretted this conversation almost immediately. He looked up at her expecting to see an overly saccharine expression of sympathy on her features, but she merely looked at him, her temporary contrition giving way to frank curiosity. "Someone died?"

Her voice actually wobbled on the last word, the consonants catching in her throat. She tried to cover it with a sip of orange juice and he found himself wanting to reach out and brush the back of her knuckles with his fingertips. He blinked. Why was she the one that needed to be comforted? Coughing, he cleared the lump in his throat. "Might as well have."

Her mouth dropped open. "That's awful, Danny."

He shifted uncomfortably, dragging his silverware through the uneaten food on his plate. Her chastising tone surprised him. He began to elaborate defensively. "He left in the middle of the night like a coward ten years ago." He sighed. "It's not important."

She shook her head vehemently. "Of course it's important. Have you confronted him, or talked to him at all about it?"

"I don't even know where he is, really. There were letters at first, and they just sort of… petered off."

He steeled himself for naive suggestions, perhaps even an attempt to empathize with something she'd never had to deal with. It was always what people did when anyone talked about this kind of thing. He kind of hated it.

"Well, that sucks."

In spite of the surprisingly heavy turn of their conversation, Danny felt the corner of his mouth twitch up. She'd hit a nerve that was sure, but she knew when to let things lie. Even though they hadn't had some kind of philosophical discussion, he felt the chamber around his heart decompress a little. "Yeah. It is what it is. I'm not much worse for wear." He shored up the unstable walls around him, reverting back his usual mantra. "I'm okay."

"You are?"

He shrugged, feeling a little uncomfortable with her continued probing. "I'm always okay."

She got up from her seat and collected their dishes, glancing back at his pleasantly surprised expression. "What? You cooked, I'll clean. That's how it works isn't it? It's not fair for one person to do it all. Plus, cramming stuff down a garbage disposal is kind of my forte in the kitchen."

He watched her, grateful for the open floor plan of the house. She looked so at home there standing in front of the sink, the yellow light of the low hanging light fixture reflecting off the soft waves of hair. In spite of her declarations that cooking wasn't for her, he was sure he could show her a thing or two. She hummed while she washed the plates, shuffling her sock clad feet against the tile as she shimmied to an imaginary beat. Where did she find all the happiness?

"Movies." Her high pitched voice sailed through the air, a strangely specific answer to a rather broad question.

Danny blinked rapidly. Had he asked that out loud? His eardrums hadn't vibrated with the sound of his voice. "Huh?"

"We should have a movie marathon or something. There's nothing else to do. Have any good ones?" She turned back to him, hands sweeping a kitchen towel in circular motions as she dried one of the plates.

"I think I can find something."

"Good."


	8. Chapter 8

They spent the better part of the day watching various romantic comedies and heartbreaking dramas on Netflix (Peter's subscription, not Danny's), Mindy vetoing nearly every suggestion Danny made. To be fair, he hadn't really expected her to agree to watching _The Hunt For Red October_, and wasn't surprised when she objected to it, articulating her lack of interest with an eyeroll and disparaging remark about Tom Clancy.

They took a short break to work quietly, finding that their dedication to education was surprisingly aligned. Danny marveled at the classload she'd shouldered, although he shouldn't have. Garibaldi's class was technically a senior level, and somehow she'd not only gotten into it, but for the most part excelled. He caught himself watching her in fascination as she poured over her textbook, a tiny wrinkle appearing between her eyebrows as she pondered something.

The snowstorm had abated, leaving a cold gray sky and more snow than Danny had ever seen piled up around the house. She sat by the window. The muted illumination reflecting off the mounds of snow cast her figure in stark clarity. This side of her surprised him. She was so focused and quiet, and yet he was keenly aware of her presence.

After a while, the not so quiet rumblings of their stomachs forced them back into a kitchen to a quick lunch composed of hastily thrown together sandwiches (a specialty of Danny's it seemed), leaving them pleasantly sated.

Mindy made her way back to the couch, patting the cushion beside her emphatically. "Come on, it's time to watch the best movie ever made."

Fascinated to see which film she referred to, Danny dropped down beside her wordlessly, a faint little chuckle breaking the surface when he saw the opening scene.

Mindy had felt strangely at ease with him since their conversation at the kitchen table, the high-volume tense nature of most of their previous interactions seeming to fall away, a pleasantly soft atmosphere left in its place. If she hadn't been so enthralled with the scenes playing out before them, Mindy would have noticed Danny's attention wasn't on the snappy dialogue, or the palpably warm cinematography, but rather the dreamlike expressions flitting across her face. She stared at the screen with stars in her eyes as she mouthed the words, lost in the moment.

Her rapt attention fascinated him, and he found himself fighting the desire to reach across the short space between them and kiss her senseless. He crossed his arms, tucking his hands in to keep them under control. An entire day spent in this hazy alternate reality and Danny was beginning to feel a little stir crazy. The persistent hum of sexual tension crackled in the air anytime they were near each other. Only a day ago, he'd convinced himself that she was irritating, that whatever he felt was purely physical. Today had sorely tested that theory, and here he sat, craving a bit of the fire he knew was still hidden right beneath the surface, finding that he was attracted even to the things he'd so recently jotted in her cons column.

His eyes darted to the screen to see what she found so incredibly enthralling. Billy Crystal was dashing through the streets, desperation written all over his face. The swelling romantic music finally pushed him over the edge. "Who would actually do that?"

Her head immediately snapped around to him, eyes narrowing as she mentally dared him to continue this train of thought. He felt a little flutter of anticipation in his chest, turning away from her gaze. He focused instead on the big screen. "Billy, don't run. It's New Year's, go out and get laid, man."

The look of disgust that swept across her features was nothing less than what Danny expected, pupils dilating as she ramped up. Desire kicked him in the gut and shifted uncomfortably beside her.

"Are you kidding me? What is wrong with you?"

"What? I'm on her side too. She's got plans, and they don't include this bozo interrupting her New Year's Eve. If I was her, I'd be like 'Look Buddy, I'm just trying to party with my friends and kiss some strangers at midnight.' She's not home alone pining for some jerk."

One hand flew up to stem his flow of words, a derisive snort sounding out. "Never speak for Meg Ryan ever again." Gearing up for what was clearly going to be a speech, she took a deep cleansing breath before continuing. "He's clearly in love with her. Why would he do something disgusting like go out and screw some strange woman when Meg 'Most Adorable Human Being Alive' Ryan is waiting for him? Running through the streets of New York to get to her is perhaps the grandest romantic gesture ever conceived."

"It's not realistic at all."

"Ugh, Danny, grand romantic gestures aren't supposed to be realistic." She threw her hands up dramatically, eyes cast upwards to the ceiling. "I don't know what I expected from someone who hooks up with rando chicks at frat parties."

He laughed. "That was _you!_"

"Oh. Right…" She snorted, fighting against the involuntary smile tugging at her cheeks. She wanted to maintain her righteous indignation, but found it hard to resist the novel sparkle she read in his eyes. He was flirting with her, wasn't he? Her heart knocked against her chest, doing a quick little skip as she tried to read him.

He continued, employing a half cocked crooked little grin that should have been illegal. "Right. You're not Sally, but then again, no one is."

"Then who am I, Danny? If life were a Nora Ephron movie-"

"It isn't."

"- which of her multidimensional and timeless characters would I be?"

"The lady in the restaurant."

His half smile burgeoned into a full on grin, a playful look on his face that she'd never seen before. It melted her insides a little, all her organs turning to hot cider and pooling in the pit of her stomach.

Blinking, she registered his his answer. "What?!" She shoved at him. "I am not Rob Reiner's mother!"

"Let's just say, I feel like you and the lady in the restaurant share certain... appetites."

She blushed hotly, feeling suddenly self conscious about the position of her hands still resting against his shoulder. Snatching her fingers away abruptly, she turned back to the tv, wondering at the way she became tongue tied. She hated this. Confronted with actual flirtation her mind went blank. She made a mental note to watch _Legally Blonde _again when she finally got back to her place. She could stand to follow the example so bravely set by Elle Woods. The 'Bend and Snap' may have been a little too obvious, but the philosophy behind it was worth pondering, fictional character or not.

The strains of _Auld Lang Syne_ filtered through the air, pulling her out of her own mind. "Look, you missed the best part, and it's your loss because you could really use some pointers on how to talk to women. You suck at it."

He shrugged, relaxing to the cushions, arms stretched along the back of the couch. There was the smug little smile again. "I do alright."

Mindy gave him an unsubtle once over. Of course he did alright. He probably did more than alright, confidence oozing from his every pore as he sat in a position perfect for displaying those ridiculous arms. She forced herself to turn away. "Keep telling yourself that."

Credits rolled, the room around them dimming as the short winter day came to a close. Danny watched her as she stared wistfully at the screen, the glow reflected in the square lenses of her glasses, missing the warm banter even as it faded away.

He snatched the remote out of her hand. "Alright, I pick the next movie, no arguments."

It was warm under the shared blanket. The smooth leather cushions absorbing their flannel-clad body heat was a pleasant contrast to the chill in the air.

With every snap of a twig, every hoot of an offscreen owl, Mindy jumped nervously at his side. He could feel her tensing as the protagonist wandered away from the lone farm house, limping into the dark woods as he tried to escape. Mindy became chattier and chattier as the suspense amped up. "The woods? There's a car right there, Danny! And his ankle is sprained! Turn around, you idiot!"

The musical score employed a long drawn out note, ratcheting up the tension. A dark figure appeared silhouetted in the light of the porch, unhurriedly following the hapless victim. Mindy unconsciously scooted closer, eyes glued to the screen in spite of every cell in her body telling her to look away. "He should be dead, they stabbed him like twelve times, it's not medically possible. If anything his kidneys are lacerated. He should be bleeding out, not chasing that poor stupid man through the woods."

The soon to be murdered idiot continued to stumble through the densely packed forrest, darkness fully enveloping him as clouds covered the previously helpful full moon, fog rolling in across the bottom of the screen. Harsh breathing echoed through the speakers on either side of the TV, and Danny could hear a matching cadence in her hastily drawn in breaths as she sat snuggled up against him.

A noise came from behind the couch, a loud thump that sent Mindy jumping out of her skin. She lunged toward him, closing the final few inches between them to bury her face in his chest, arms threading under his own as she tried to draw him closer for protection.

He didn't know how to react at first, surprised at the abrupt shift in position. He was torn between the urge to relax into her embrace and push her gently away. She took the choice away from him by tightening her grip painfully.

"There's someone else here." She whispered the declaration frantically into his ear, her hot breath tickling against his neck. Danny felt the now familiar zing of desire dart through his limbs, his arms obeying his baser instincts as they curled around her.

He frowned, trying to focus on her words. "What?"

Gulping audibly, she leaned closer to whisper again. "Behind the couch."

The tension broke loose, and Danny felt laughter bubbling up in his chest. "Mindy, Pete has a very expensive surround sound system." He didn't add that his roommate liked to watch porn on it and that Danny had on more than one occasion stormed angrily out into the living room to yank the power cords out of the wall.

Her grip loosened, the fingers of her right hand no longer digging into the muscles of his bicep as she pulled away. She looked sheepish, casting her eyes to the side in embarrassment. Danny felt cold, a quick shiver skimming across his skin as she widened the space between them.

The quiet came unexpectedly, orchestral horror music fading away, the only sound between them the shallow breathing whispering against the speakers as the doomed leading man hunkered in the shadow of an impossibly large tree. Mindy jerked unexpectedly, a quick double pulsing buzz interrupting their strange staring contest.

She looked relieved by the distraction as she slipped her hand into the front pocket of her hoodie. Tapping the screen of her phone, she scrolled through her texts, astonished to discover half a dozen messages from an supremely apologetic and worried Brendan Deslaurier.

_Mindy, I think I may have been a bit insensitive._

_Please don't be mad at me. You're one of the few people whose inner light so unabashedly matches their outer appearance. That transparency is invaluable._

She could hear the false ring, his insult couched in a carefully worded backhanded compliment.

_Mindy?_

Apparently employing an oft suggested dating tactic worked on Brendan. Too bad she'd never been able to let a text message go unanswered in the past. This bit of information could have changed the entire trajectory of her dating life

_I regret not walking you home, various undesirable scenarios are beginning to play out in my head as my messages go unanswered._

She glanced at the corner of her screen, the service here was apparently terrible. A little smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she got to the most recent one, sent only fifteen minutes ago.

_Mindy, please call me and at least let me know you're ok._

Better late than never, she supposed, a sense of vindication permeating her. Brendan Deslaurier could pretend to be casual all he wanted, but she was sure there were some definite feelings under his blasé attitude. What was with the men in this city? They were so emotionally constipated. She tapped out a lengthy message, reiterating her status as an independant woman who could take care of herself, ignoring the fact that Danny had been technically taking care of her for the past day and a half, clothing her, feeding her, washing weapons-grade pepper spray out of her eyes. (That was beside the point).

"Writing a novel?"

Her head popped up to find Danny staring at her curiously, his lips parted as if he had something more to add. She waited. When nothing came, she turned back to her phone, absentmindedly answering his question. "No, just a dissertation on why I'm so awesome, and how it's no surprise that crystal-wielding granola-heads worship the ground I walk on."

"Brendan?" Danny felt anger tremble through him, even though he was one hundred percent aware that he had no right to it. He tamped down the urge to gesticulate dramatically while he ticked off the reasons she shouldn't forgive the bastard. He shut his mouth, a scowl dropping down over his face.

"Yup. Poor guy will be following me around like a puppy as soon as he sees me again." She seemed satisfied with herself, a half smile settling on her lips as she glanced back at the TV, terror completely forgotten as she watched the pathetic soul on the screen get hacked to pieces. "Hey, Danny…"

He looked up, traitorous hope swelling in his chest at her inquisitive tone. "Yeah…" He held his breath, waiting for it… whatever _it _was.

She smiled. "I'm gonna grab something to drink. You want anything while I'm up?"

The bottom dropped out of his stomach, and he just stared at her. Eventually he managed to nod and choke out the word 'water.'

She rose from the couch and skipped into the kitchen, bouncing on her heels as she hummed a jaunty little tune. With each step she took away from him, he felt little threads of contact tugging him to go after her, each one snapping painfully as he remained still. The phantom draft from earlier swept over him again, gooseflesh popping up across his skin as his mind tried in vain to grasp at the thing he was losing.

He frantically grasped at the retreating threads as they floated away, his feet slapping against the jarringly cold hardwood. He strode determinedly toward the kitchen. She was standing at the fridge, door open as she contemplated her choices inside. She'd already plucked out a bottle of springwater, holding it to her chest as the glow of the fridge light illuminated a halo around her.

"Danny, is that gooseberry beer in the ba-"

Her last word was cut off, punctuated by the sound of the water bottle smacking against the kitchen tile. Danny's lips were on hers, the minty flavor of his tongue playing against her own as he kissed her firmly. He pulled away, staring deeply into her eyes as his hands caressed her cheeks, the touch featherlight and tentative. He swallowed, not bothering to hide the vulnerability so clearly etched into his features. "I know what I said before, and I probably shouldn't have done this, but I'm... I like you."

She stared at him, seemingly in shock, her eyes wide as saucers. Pushing past the feeling that he'd made a huge miscalculation, he continued. "I'll count to three, ok, and if you don't say anything I'll turn around and pretend this never happened."

She continued to peer at him like she'd never seen him before, lips parted slightly.

"One…"

Her eyes scanned his face for clues as to what the hell he could possibly be thinking.

"Two…"

She could feel the heat of his fingers seeping into her skin, mingling with the temperature of her blush as it raced across her skin, his thumb reverently tracing the line of her cheekbone.

"Three…"

Her eyes darted down to his throat, noting the force with which his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. She got lost in the texture of his skin, the slight stubble along his jaw, pupils dilating. She still couldn't say anything, for the first time in her life at a total loss for words. Something still held her back, keeping her from grabbing greedily at what she really wanted.

"Four?"

How could he sound like that? Hopeful and scared and yet confident that all he needed was one more chance. Her eyes crinkled, a slow smile spreading across her face as heat radiated out from her middle. She nodded at him, reaching forward to touch the skin she'd been devouring with her eyes.

The second kiss was deeper, pulling heat up through her very center, nerve endings tingling as his hands desperately roved across her body. He cupped her ass, fingers digging into the flesh as he pulled her closer to him, finding it impossible to achieve the proximity he truly wanted.

He felt her stretch upwards on the tips of her toes, seeking more. It was the only signal he needed, he dragged her toward his bedroom, pausing every few feet to thread his fingers through her hair and sink into a deep kiss.

**A/N: Finally! After a while with absolutely no urge to write, suddenly it reappears (Why does it always feel like it's never going to come back?) I've finally landed on a real outline for this story, and I really like it. Hope you enjoy this chapter. I've got about 1800 words written of the next one, so hopefully that'll be up in a couple days or so. You're comments give me life, and I do think they help with my motivation, so feel free to say whatever you like.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Sorry for the wait. I did have something written after I finished the last chapter, but I didn't like it so I scrapped it and wrote this instead. Thanks so much to the ever patient three people that I forced to read this many times. As always, I really appreciate hearing what anyone has to say, comments and reviews mean the world to me. Merry Christmas!**

Mindy tried to concentrate on the space around her, to make note of the pale moonlight bouncing off the snow and casting the room in a bluish haze. She valiantly endeavored to record the sounds landing like a melody on her ears, the hum of the fan spinning lazily above, the muffled sound of whatever still played in the living room.

She whimpered when it seemed impossible to activate the part of her brain she used when studying, the zone of gray matter that stored the most minute information. She desperately needed to remember all the little details, like the texture of his sheets slipping against her skin as he dragged her to him or the softness of the mattress as it gave beneath their weight. But it was impossible to catalogue these sensations when all she could hold onto was the feel of his hands drifting over her body, fingers digging into her soft flesh as his lips sucked hungrily at her skin.

She tried to remember how the air smelled faintly of cologne and fabric softener, how there was even an inexplicable hint of woodsmoke underneath those more obvious notes. But how could she possibly concentrate on such things when the scent of his skin completely enveloped her, the pleasant tang of fresh clean sweat triggering a surprisingly anticipatory response in her?

Her entire world seemed to narrow, all five senses honing in on one thing, one being. She whimpered in frustration when he released her lips, her own hands clutching desperately at his shoulders as he moved down between her legs, his fingers tracing feather light circles on the sensitive skin of her knees. She felt like a map, Danny marking all the roads on her body as he traveled across it, placing gentle kisses at all the most important landmarks.

So awash was she in the sensations enveloping her, that the feel of his lithe fingers dipping dexterously into her came as a pleasant surprise, a hoarse yell sounding out when his thumb circled her swollen clit. She gasped out a short giggle, suddenly aware that whatever she'd felt in her dream could only ever be a pale imitation of what was about to happen.

Her thoughts were washed away by a rolling wave of pleasure traveling like a tsunami from the epicenter between her legs to the tips of her toes and the top of her head. Not quite cresting, it muted the part of her brain responsible for language, turning even her constant inner monologue into a mess akin to alphabet soup. Clutching at the edge of the mattress, she moaned desperately, arching her hips toward him in search of an undefined higher level.

As if reading her mind, Danny dipped his head down, kissing the impossibly soft skin of her inner thighs, teasing as he got closer and closer to the source of her need. She was flooded with sudden clarity. The previously unattainable details of everything around her were cast into stark detail, muted colors suddenly vibrant to her dilated pupils, unique scents by the hundreds invading her sensitive nose. Nerve endings sparked at each point of contact, electrical currents chasing along the surface of her skin. She'd once read how ecstasy affects the body, and yet this seemed more potent than anything a drug could possibly induce.

But even that was cast into oblivion the moment his tongue delved into the slippery arousal between her thighs, the agile muscle probing against her delicate folds. When the flat of his tongue swept against the plump little nub waiting for him, wet heat meeting wet heat, she began to quiver beneath him, the muscles of her abdomen jumping involuntarily at each pass.

The very last of reality fell away as he drew her between his lips, tongue lapping at the underside of her clit. The suction he applied was the final straw, a strangled gasp tearing out to echo against the walls. She couldn't have said where she was or how she'd come to be there, eyes squeezed shut as infinite colors exploded behind her ocular nerve, every muscle in her body spasming as her hips arched toward Danny.

A rumbling chuckle vibrated against her, the blood pounding in her ears blocking out the deep sound. She felt the heat of his skin slipping along hers as he crawled up her length, again marking his path with half a dozen lingering kisses, tasting the saltiness of her damp skin.

Her chest rose and fell almost violently as she tried to catch her breath, legs instinctively curling around his hips. As impossible as it seemed, she ached for something different, to feel him inside of her as the spasms of pleasure shuddered through her. Between harsh breaths she said, "You better have a condom this time."

He chuckled, the sound becoming a part of her when he pressed up close. Now she could pack away details for her memory bank, memorizing the deep tone tickling against her skin as the hot breaths puffed out. She'd never forget the feel of the planes his chest pressed up against her, the perfect amount of hair abrading her nipples as he leaned forward to kiss her. This time she was able to pick out the flavors dancing against her tongue as he delved into her mouth, a faint almost forgotten mintiness underneath the surprisingly pleasant musk of her own flavor.

She blushed at the thought, closing her eyes in an uncharacteristic moment of bashfulness as he pulled away from her. He shifted, leaning toward the side of the bed. An unexpected flood of light filtered through her eyelids and sent them flying open, arms involuntarily crossing over her heart.

She felt exposed, a twinge of insecurity ghosting through her as she watched him search through his bedside drawer. He didn't notice her shift in body language, the muscles of his shoulders taut as he strained to reach the thing he was looking for.

This insecurity she felt was nothing new. Every line of his body seemed to be Michelangelesque in its perfection, the contours of the muscles finely delineated like calculated strokes under the sculptor's chisel. She couldn't see it now, but her fingertips still retained the memory of when she'd traced along his spine, dipping down until she'd palmed his firm glutes. The tightly coiled energy between her thighs pulsed through him as he shifted atop her.

He was saying something, amusement playing at the edges of his voice as he turned back to her, eyes sparkling mischievously, but the words stopped abruptly when his eyes lit on her face again. "Mindy?"

She bit her bottom lip, the urge to cry washing over her with no explanation. "Can you, uh... turn off the light?"

She could see the question forming, lips twisting to form the letter "w" as confusion swept across his face. But just as the word began to form, his perplexion faded away, replaced by a soft look of understanding.

"Mindy..."

She couldn't face it. Turning her head, she tried to focus on the shadows cast against the far wall, shapes amorphous and nothing like their sources. She tucked her chin down against her chest while she waited.

"Please look at me."

She steeled herself, attempting to dip down into her reservoir of confidence so she could get through this, but the well was dry and her eyes remained fixed to the wall.

The warmth of his touch against her cheek sent a shiver down her spine, a tingling sensation buzzing through her limbs. Mouth dry with desire, she turned back to him, wishing she could explain the way she felt. "Danny... Maybe if... I looked differently... I could do that... but I just can't."

"Min..."

The last of her defenses crumbled at the sound of the diminutive soft on his lips, infused with affection. This time she really looked at him, his dark eyes clear as they searched her features. She tried to pinpoint exactly what she was feeling. She could so easily picture the perfect girl for him, hair falling in soft blonde waves, eyes big crystalline pools as she gazed at him. She could imagine Danny plucking up the size two pixie (she'd seen the dress hanging like a warning sign in the back of his closet) and tossing her playfully in her arms.

"You're beautiful, Mindy."

She gathered her thoughts, voice brittle with uncertainty. "If I had a flat stomach... if my thighs weren't dimpled and my boobs were bigger..." There was a slight edge to her voice, defensiveness coloring her words. "I've looked into getting implants, but they're so expensive-"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

She ignored his question. "-and I tried blue contacts once, but they didn't look right, and-"

"I don't want that."

The vehemence of his declaration cut off her litany of insecurities, mouth closing mid sentence.

"You're a woman, and that's good… Look like a woman." He grabbed her chin, pulling it away from her chest so he could really convey the sincerity of his next words. "I understand, you're self conscious. Who isn't? But you don't have to be." He faltered, never one to say the perfect thing. The last thing he wanted was to say something unintentionally hurtful. He couldn't find the words to tell her he'd never seen soft brown eyes like hers before, so full of joy and sparkling with intelligence. He didn't know how to say that he'd wanted nothing more than to consume every inch of her for the past forty eight hours.

He fell back on the thing he knew he was good at, swooping down to kiss her, drawing her bottom lip into his mouth. Her arms uncrossed and threaded around his neck to pull him down closer.

He released her, panting desperately. "Can't you feel it?" The length of his erection pressed insistently against her thigh, and he swallowed hard as the soft skin caressed him.

Should he tell her about the baseball stats he'd recited, trying to push away the image of her naked body while she bathed? The sleepless night he'd spent one room away from her, gritting his teeth as images of her wrapped in one of his towels flashed before his eyes? No words came out.

Palming one breast, he dropped gentle little kisses against her collarbone, stalling. Could she feel the reverence in his touch? It seemed to work, her breaths once again thready as she squirmed beneath him. She twisted to grab the foil packet he'd abandoned on the nightstand, sending him a mischievous glance as she ripped it open with her teeth.

He took it from her, leaning back to roll it on as quickly as possible. Within seconds he was poised between her thighs once again, achingly ready to plunge into her. He studied her face one last time, finding her lips curved into secret little smile.

His breath caught painfully in his throat, a feeling he couldn't translate squeezing the air out of his lungs as he gazed at her. He swallowed, failing to dislodge it.

Positioning himself at her entrance, he rubbed the tip against the moisture glistening where he'd laved at her, not once taking his eyes off of her face. He honestly tried to go slow at first, pushing himself gently into her, muscles clenching low in his belly as she enveloped him. His jaw ticked with the pressure he exerted on it.

It was a tight fit, her kegels flexing around him as he filled her, his pubic bone grinding against the top of her mons in a way that, if she could possibly think straight, Mindy would have praised as textbook good sex. He worried for a moment that she might be uncomfortable, watching the expressions flit across her face as he moved against her. Her brow knitted in concentration when he plunged into her the second time, slipping against her with more force.

Her eyes fluttered, rolling back in pleasure as he picked up his speed. Every sound she made sent him closer and closer to the edge, a panicky feeling enveloped him at the thought of finishing before her. He just wanted to watch her fly apart before he lost all control.

Hooking one hand beneath her right knee, he hitched it up beside her, turning her whole body slightly to the side as he continued to thrust. Her eyes flew open, the question in them evaporating before she could articulate it. "Oh… god." She shook with gratification each time he reentered her. "Fuck, this could be a chapter in your book."

Even amidst the pleasure, Danny could hear the humor in her voice, an underlying happiness that made him feel warm all over as he climbed higher and higher. Just as he feared he was nearly spent, he felt it, the tremors starting deep inside of her and spiraling outward. She let out a long throaty moan, confirming what her body was already telling him. He grinned, answering her suggestion. "Working on that."

Danny pushed into her one last time, burying himself to the hilt as his lower abdomen clenched almost painfully, micro spasms twitching his hips into her a buried his face in the hollow of her shoulder. The muscles of his arms quivered as he held his weight off of her, wanting to stay nestled like this as long as possible, to feel her hands slipping over his back indefinitely. Eventually the protesting ache in his limbs was too much and he rolled away, regretfully slipping from between her legs.

For Mindy, this in itself was a moment of truth. She waited with her heart in her throat to see what Danny would do. As little as she wanted to think about it, Brendan's recent brush off sent a tremor of fear through her. The male species was a sneaky group, feigning passion and affection until they reached their goal, then slinking off to do their own thing. Her heart beat a little faster than necessary as Danny turned away from her, swinging his legs off the bed.

She watched the movements of his back, sweat glistening in the golden glow of the lamp. Her fingers curled into the palms of her hands, the nails making tiny crescent impressions in the soft flesh as she forced herself not to reach out and touch him. He dropped the used condom in the wastebasket and snatched his cotton tee off the cold floor.

Her eyes drifted shut in disappointment, waiting for the mattress to shift, suddenly free from his weight. She turned on her side, facing away, curling in on herself. It's not like he had anywhere to go. This was going to be the most awkward moment of her life, she held her breath, waiting for the words she knew were coming.

Danny wadded the shirt up and passed it over his damp skin, the sudden chill making him self concious about the perspiration clinging to him still. Acceptably dry, he dropped the shirt and turned back to her. His fingers twitched in her direction, already craving the feel of smooth skin once again.

Her 5'1" frame looked so tiny curled up in his bed, the smooth expanse of her back calling out to him. An aura of vulnerability encompassed her, and Danny felt the cold hand of fear clutch at his insides. He could so easily hurt her, say the wrong thing and crush her beautifully open heart. This was already getting dangerous, a spark inside of him emitting a pleasant glow that could no doubt turn into an all consuming blaze.

Slipping in beside her, he drew the down comforter over their exhausted bodies and pulled her naked back up against his chest. Her immediate proximity was enough to push away his brief bout of uncertainty, a contented sigh rolling through him as he buried his nose in the mass of her hair. So absorbed was he in his own pleasure that he didn't even hear her echoing sigh as she relaxed against him.

* * *

><p>She was not a morning person. She hated the alarm clock that rang in her ears every day at five a.m. more than anything on earth, and had on more than one occasion tossed the damn thing halfway across the room. So, it was surprising to her when her eyes fluttered open to meet the first glowing rays of dawn as they shot through Danny's bedroom window.<p>

Somehow during the night they'd switched positions, Mindy becoming the big spoon. It made her smile as she peeked over his shoulder. From this angle all she could see was his profile, sooty curls brushing against his forehead, impossibly long eyelashes fanned out against his cheek. She couldn't resist the urge to place little fairy kisses along his neck, following the line all the way down to his shoulder before he stirred.

Sighing deeply, he grunted. "Go back to sleep."

The giddiness fluttering in her stomach wouldn't allow it, and she continued to press smacking little kisses along his skin, her fingers curling under his arm. Her hand slipped down over his bare chest, palm flattening against his sternum.

He twisted under her touch, a drowsy grin aimed in her direction as he drew her into his arms. This was yet another side to Danny she'd never experienced. The mussed hair sticking up in all directions, eyes crinkled in pleasure, the red mark of sleep across one cheek.

Words bubbled inside of her, dangerous ones that had the potential to tip over their precariously stacked house of cards. She pushed them down and just stared, her meaning escaping through the look in her eyes, the blush heating her cheeks. He kissed her on the temple, a close mouthed little peck barely an afterthought as he drifted again.

Maybe she could go back to sleep after all, concentrated giddiness dispersing throughout her frame like the seeds of a dandelion in a gentle breeze. Eyes drifting shut, she snuggled into his embrace, pressing a quick kiss to the underside of his jaw before yawning dramatically.

The idyllic scene was harshly interrupted by a series of thumps and curses echoing through the living room, barely muffled by the bedroom door. Danny groaned, his arms tensing around her as he drew the coverlet over their heads.

Mindy struggled to sit upright, fighting against the confines of the blanket. "Damn it, Danny, what the hell?"

He remained prone, bringing one hand up to cover his face as he awaited the inevitable. It didn't take very long, the door to his bedroom swinging open with a bang as it smacked the doorstop.

"Pete!" Danny growled out the name, irritation seeping out of every syllable.

Mindy gaped at the curly headed frat boy standing in the frame, huge blue eyes nearly bulging out of his head. "Dude, you gotta get your ass out here and help us get my car out of the ditch."

Peter dashed out of the room without even acknowledging Mindy, and she turned to Danny to question his strange reaction, but was interrupted by the sound of a slow clap coming from the doorway. Peter had done a cartoonish double take and returned.

"Well, well, well, well, well-"

Danny cut him off. "Stop saying that."

"-well, well. What do we have here?"

Danny snatched one of the pillows from behind Mindy, the muscles in his shoulders bunching as he lobbed it at his roommate. "Get out!"

Peter dodged the missile, making a lewd gesture with his hand as he backed through the open door. Mindy couldn't be sure, but she thought she could make out the distinct melody of _Fat Bottom Girls_ being hummed as he retreated.

She cut her eyes to Danny, more than a little outrage behind her eyes. "Who was that?"

Danny sat up, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Pete, my roommate." Before Mindy could respond, he rushed on. "I'm so sorry, I had no idea he'd be home this morning. They must have cleared the roads." He swallowed, staring at her nervously. "Look, he's disgusting sometimes, but he's not a bad guy. He… he can keep a secret Mindy. He won't tell anyone."

Mindy scooted away from him slowly, the blanket clutched like armor to her chest. Her voice was small. "Won't tell anyone?" She hated the way she sounded, brittle and tremulous.

Danny nodded enthusiastically at her question, oblivious to her discomfort. "I promise. No one else has to know."

Backing even farther away, Mindy reached the edge of the bed. Danny finally got a clue, his eyebrows furrowing as she widened the space. His hand was on her arm immediately, drawing her back to him. "No, no… it's not like that. I just…" He felt sweat beading on his brow. This all felt too fragile to him. "Other people ruin things, and this, this feels important, don't you think?"

"Us?"

He nodded, heart doing a little flip in his chest as he watched her wary acceptance transform into untethered affection. "Can we just… be cool for a little while?"

Watching her process his question was like waiting for the rain to come, the air thick with electricity. She nodded. There. He backed away from the precipice, crisis seemingly averted, his guts unclenching for the moment, a breath he didn't know he'd been holding rushing out of his lungs.

Slipping from the bed, he dragged some clothes from his dresser, tossing some sweats in her direction. "Come on, I guess we have a car to get out of a ditch."

Mindy pulled them on, pushing back the worrisome thoughts as she wiggled into the baggy garments. She wasn't one to dwell on what-if, and Danny seemed to want something more with her. For now that would have to be enough.

She watched him digging through his closet, admiring the view. It wouldn't exactly be a hardship to accept whatever Danny was proposing. They had time to define it later, and she was riding high on the recent physical nature of their time together.

She was even willing to ponder the possible wisdom in his words. Danny shouldn't technically be in a relationship with her, and Garibaldi would probably have something to say about it. Hell, if she were honest, she didn't really like what it implied about her either, even if it were untrue.

She hopped up from the bed, bounding over to the closet where he stood. His jeans were hiked up on his hips still unzipped, chest bare as he searched for a shirt. The cool touch of her hands running along the contours of his back caught his attention.

The hanger in his hand clattered to the floor as he turned to pull her into a kiss, his thumb drawing tiny circles on her cheekbone as he gently plucked at her lips. It was so much easier to pour the way felt into the way he kissed her, to hold her to him like she might disappear at the slightest provocation. At this very moment he was sure she could translate his actions. Why else would she have wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her heart against his own?


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: whoooaaa I've had such awful writer's block, and this chapter took soooo long to write. Sorry :O. Sometimes I get stalled out plot wise, but I think I've gotten back on track. For better or worse, here's the next chapter, it's a bit of a transitional one. As always, I find comments and suggestions really encouraging.**

It was like an incessant humming, the low tone of Garibaldi's voice as he clicked through slides, almost hypnotic in its droning. Her eyes fluttered, blinking rapidly to wake herself up. Thank god the lecture hall was drafty, the constant chill in her fingertips the only thing keeping her awake as she clutched at her pen.

Her eyes dropped down to her notebook, a few notes scribbled here and there about substitution reactions of alkyl halides. A clear contrast to the ornate and painstakingly drawn script nestled between the hastily jotted chicken scratch. Little flowers and hearts floated between the pale blue lines of her college rule paper, the pen in her right hand adding yet another unnecessary curlicue to the D in Danny.

She scanned the paper, embarrassed at the sheer amount of doodles covering its surface. Setting her pen aside, she yanked the paper from the spiral note book, crumpling it into ball before shoving it in her bookbag. She could feel the blush heating her cheeks, grateful for Garibaldi's sudden reliance on something as archaic as a projector that necessitated such dimness.

Her current pastime wasn't exactly her fault. She already had the material down, and it was some horrid form of cruel and unusual punishment to test her willpower like this. Focusing on the paper in front of her was the only thing that kept her gaze from staring at Danny and daydreaming about things far more interesting than organic chemistry.

Hiding her relationship with Danny hadn't been easy for her from the beginning. She'd been bursting to tell Maggie every little detail about their first time together, eyes sparkling as she'd skipped through the door to their room. She'd barely stopped herself, getting out. "Oh god, Mags, I have something JUICY to tell you."

Of course, she was quick on her toes and swiftly steered the conversation into another channel, making up some outlandish story about her designer kicks getting stolen at the campus gym. Maggie had eyed her somewhat suspiciously, questioning the "juiciness" of the story, the existence of said designer kicks and even whether or not Mindy had ever set foot in the campus gym. As with most things, Mindy used her unrelenting enthusiasm to browbeat Maggie into believing the obvious lie.

And it wasn't logistically hard to keep this under lock and key, opportunities to reveal their relationship few and far between. Since the snow had been cleared away, they'd spent every moment they were both free basically locked in his bedroom, Danny doing an obscene amount of "research" for his future manifesto on the art of female orgasm.

Mindy smiled to herself, the lid of her pen tapping against the front of her teeth as she recalled the latest chapter that had been added to his outline. Her cheeks heated, flames licking at her insides as she recalled his slow yet persistent movements accompanied by the cacophony of inelegant curses she'd let escape in the throes of passion. She'd definitely be getting her own page in the acknowledgments. It was hard to believe she'd been tucked into his embrace merely hours before, absorbing the furnace-like heat of his skin as she panted against him.

They'd developed quite the routine too, Mindy popping over every Friday night for cooking lessons that always seemed to devolve into kitchen table make-out sessions, and impossibly long and drawn out games of Truth or Dare, the latter giving her a surprising amount of information about Danny's family.

Mindy always picked truth, and Danny rewarded her with beautifully unguarded vignettes of his childhood. He painted a picture when speaking, an innate storytelling ability bubbling up, his memories peppered with sensory descriptions easy to get lost in. Sometimes his answers started off loud and confident, puffing out his chest in a display of Staten Island machismo only to peter off into surprisingly soft spoken words about his island friends, a sheepish smile chasing across his face as he admitted to testing his mother's cooking sherry with his best friend when he was fourteen.

The only thing that put a damper on their dreamlike Friday nights was the cold reality of Saturday mornings. They would shuffle around quietly, making coffee and eating toast, before slipping out the door. A faint, and Mindy would dare say almost imperceptible feeling of awkwardness hanging in the air around them. This morning hadn't been any different.

Danny had driven her to campus, dropping her off in the parking lot behind the chemistry building. "I'm gonna be working late tonight for Garibaldi... so..."

He had trailed off, leaving her to put together the implication. "No hanging out tonight?"

He nodded, a regretful little frown pull in at the corners of his mouth as he put the car in park. She always tried to brush away the niggling irritation in the back of her mind, but she was pretty sure this morning it had showed in her body language. Why else would Danny have slipped his hand in the crook of her arm, stopping her from exiting the car?

"You ok?"

Looking down slightly, she'd thrown him a weak smile, nodding in response. He'd kissed her so gently, sighing deeply when her lips had parted, granting him full access. No one else had ever kissed her like that, one hand cradling her face, the other at her throat, his thumb seeming to seek out her pulse.

His voice was slightly hoarse when he released her. "Yeah?"

She'd nodded a second time, wordlessly exiting the car and walking toward the building. In her mind, there was a countdown to the moment when they would reveal that they were dating. She firmly believed it was merely a matter of weeks, the end of the semester looming closer with each passing day. She'd take her finals, go home and visit her lovely parents for Christmas break, and the third week of January this vow of silence would finally be lifted. She even had an app on her phone that crossed off the days as they passed.

That was enough, really, to allay the minor feeling of trepidation she felt each time Danny dropped her off, far away from his usual parking spot. It even helped with the tiny tendril of fear that uncurled in her stomach each time he didn't walk her up to her room.

And the doodles in her notebook? Well, lately when her minded started to wander, it always seemed to find a path to him, and trying to thwart that tendency only made it worse. He was sitting mere feet from her, hunched over a pile of paperwork while Garibaldi clicked through the interminable slideshow. In the darkness all she could really see was the bluish glow reflected off his hair, the thick locks parted on the side, ruffled only slightly from running his hands through it repeatedly.

Her fingers itched to comb their way through the dark mass, to slip down to the nape where the hair tapered into a point. She'd noticed it was getting longer, twirling it between her index and thumb while she kissed him lazily.

The lights flicked on, and Mindy squeezed her eyes shut in surprise. Had it already been an hour and a half? The time had a way of zipping by when she was thinking about certain things. Blinking, she attempted to regain her focus, snatching her bag up and shoving her books into it.

This was the worst part of Saturdays, turning away from Danny and shuffling out of the lecture hall. Today it was significantly harder, since they weren't even meeting up later as usual.

There was always a small group of students who stayed behind, some vying for the attention of Garibaldi, questions about grades or the syllabus jumping anxiously from their mouths. Others waited patiently to ask Danny to explain different substitution and elimination reactions. Mindy rolled her eyes at the thought.

Her steps slowed as she got closer to the exit, impatient classmates brushing unapologetically past her. Glancing over her shoulder, she peered at the little group around Danny, wondering if there seemed to be more simpering co-eds than usual. She shook her head, surprised at the sudden hot flash of jealousy. It wasn't something she had a lot of experience with, and she didn't like the decidedly unevolved urge to scratch out the eyes of another woman.

She'd almost shaken off the unwelcome emotion when a confidently tall woman strode up to the group, parting the way like Moses at the Red Sea. She was willowy, the alabaster skin of her shoulders continuing in a long graceful line down her arms. Mindy could only see the back of her head, a shiny golden bob accentuating her delicate neck.

An unstoppable surge of jealousy pulsed through Mindy as the mystery woman leaned forward, placing one pale hand on Danny's arm, squeezing with her slim fingers. But it wasn't the action alone that triggered this unpleasant sensation, it was the look on his face. He immediately went slack jawed, eyes wide with surprise, brows shooting up as the woman chattered brightly.

There was so much familiarity in her body language, leaning in close as she smiled through her words. As if sensing they didn't belong, the small group of students dispersed, leaving the two alone.

Mindy spun on her heel, nearly knocking down an overdressed young man standing in the doorway. He glared at her balefully, picking up the books he'd dropped. "Watch where you're going, princess."

Embarrassed, she hurriedly tripped through the door, wincing as the sunlight cascaded down on her. She could feel the queasiness stirring, the swirling sensation surrounding her.

She felt like she'd been blindfolded for the past several weeks, participating willfully in such an obvious game. The sudden clarity engulfing her was sickening, and she struggled to dash across the campus to her dorm.

Whipping out her phone, she texted Maggie.

_Where are you?_

Much to her relief, a reply came through within seconds, phone buzzing against her fingers as she speed walked.

* * *

><p>The aspirin bottle hit the edge of Mindy's desk with a little more force than she'd intended, white pills rattling in the clear bottle like a poor excuse for a maraca. Maggie glared at her from across the room, pressing two fingers gingerly to her temple. "Keep it down over there."<p>

Stomping heavily over to Maggie's bed, Mindy held out her hand, offering the tiny white aspirins as an olive branch. "I need to talk to you, and you're… ugh."

Maggie snatched them from her palm, tipping up a tall glass of water. She chugged it, fighting of the remaining vestiges of dehydration. She didn't look back at Mindy until the last drop was gone. "Trouble in paradise?"

"What?" The question threw Mindy for a loop, confusion drawing her brows together.

Squinting unpleasantly at the sunshine filtering through the blinds sending shooting pains through her skull, Maggie cursed under her breath.. She snatched a pair of Ray-Bans from the dresser, peering at Mindy behind the tinted lenses. "I assume your secret boyfriend is being a major league douche-nozzle, since you've finally come running to me. You've got that I'm-about-to-gag look on your face."

"It's not... He's not- wait, how…?" Mindy sputtered, the urge to gag triggered once again by Maggie's reference to it. Her fingers darted to her throat, the airway feeling suddenly constricted. She swalloed. "I don't have a _look."_

Maggie rolled her eyes, somehow managing to look exasperated in her clammy-skinned hungover state. "What did you say at the beginning of the semester, Mindy? You wanted to..." Maggie closed her eyes in concentration, plucking the exact verbiage from her memory. "... experience the collegiate portion of your life with the fervor and zeal of Nicki Minaj picking a wine to attach her name to... Or something like that."

"_So_?"

"So, what have you done? Rushed a sorority? Joined any student organizations? Led any protests? Have you even met any new people?" Maggie shifted to her knees, scooting on the mattress until she was facing her friend. Grabbing Mindy's shoulders with her unusually strong fingers, Maggie continued. "No, you haven't. You disappear every day after your classes, spend the weekends with this mystery guy... I'd be an awful friend if I didn't notice what was happening."

Mindy stood in stunned silence. Having her total lack of a social life spread out before her was like a slap in the face. How had this happened? The semester was almost over, her 'Freshman Year To-Do' list laying forgotten in the top drawer of her desk.

Mindy plopped down on the bed, leaning into her roommate. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Maggie looped a consoling arm around Mindy's shoulders. "I don't know, Lahiri, you seemed happy enough, I assumed there had to be a good reason you were hiding it from me." Maggie swallowed, adding, "But I'm saying something now. You look miserable. Spill the beans."

"He wants to 'be cool' and I'm having a hard time with it." Mindy accented the phrase with weak air quotes.

Maggie wrinkled her nose, a clear expression of disgusting curling her lip. "Be cool? What does that even mean?"

"We're keeping us a secret..."

Maggie scoffed. "Ugh, frat boys and their stupid slang."

Mindy ignored her comment. "But sometimes it doesn't feel like we're keeping our relationship secret... It's..." She struggled to articulate the sick feeling that washed over her at the oddest times. "It's more like _I'm _the secret." She sighed. "I don't know... It's not like he doesn't have a valid reason, but..."

"How convenient."

The ire in Maggie's words surprised Mindy, and she pulled away to get a better look at her friend. "What?"

"I'm _sure_ his excuse is 'valid,' but it's playa 101 to keep a relationship secret... opens up a whole new field of opportunities. _Especially _if the excuse is real. How many girls has he said that to? How many girls is he saying that to _right now_?"

Mindy was aghast. Everything Maggie said made perfect sense, logically, but her heart didn't want to believe it. It didn't seem possible that Danny could kiss her so warmly, look at her with such soft vulnerability in his eyes, and then... do that with someone else.

Her mind rebelled at the thought, but a tiny voice whispered to her about wispy blondes with long graceful legs. She shook her head, willing the thought away.

Maggie grabbed her, pulling her from the swirling vortex of doubt. "Hey, relax..." Racking her brain to think of a solution, her eyes lit on the crudely drawn flyer on her nightstand. Snatching it up, she waved it in front of Mindy's distraught face. "Let's do something tonight, my friend Pete is having a kegger at his house, and-"

Mindy snatched the paper away, staring at it in horror. "Peter _Prentice_?! Peter _freaking _Prentice is having a party at _his_ house and you know about it, but I don't?!"

"Um, we have classes together..."

Grinding her teeth, she pointed at the address on the flyer. "He's Danny's roommate, Maggie."

Maggie slowly took off the sunglasses, a look of sympathy on her face. "It's Danny? Short, quiet dude?" She contemplated this new information, putting two and two together. "Huh. That must mean you're the 'spicy little dish' Pete was talking about."

Mindy jumped up and tossed the paper to the floor, irritation building inside of her until she was pacing between the twin beds. "Oh my god, you're right… I'm a side dish."

"That's not what-"

She nodded vigorously, worrying away at her thumbnail as she moved back and forth. "She must be his girlfriend."

"She?"

Mindy stopped, skidding slightly against the carpet as she whirled back to face her friend. "The ethereal grecian goddess putting her dirty paws all over him after class today. You should have seen his face. I thought he was surprised, but now I think having us in such close proximity was making him nervous."

The words were pouring out, all jammed together as Mindy's panic crescendoed. Maggie was more than a tad bit alarmed. She rose from the bed and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Mindy, stop, you're spinning out of control. We don't know if any of that is true. Let's just go to the party tonight and you can ask him. I could be wrong."

She nodded, wide eyes narrowing in an all too familiar way. Maggie immediately regretted her suggestion, but it was too late. Mindy had already dove into the closet, her chirpy voice carrying out into the bedroom. "Of course… yes.. and _then_ I can give him an ultimatum. I'm not being his secret mistress any longer. It's not as glamorous as Marilyn Monroe made it seem. _And he's no Kennedy!_"

"The party isn't for hours…" Maggie trailed off, knowing that at this point the events of the day were like a runaway train, nothing she could say or do would change anything. Mindy was on a mission.


End file.
